


In halves

by dragon_rider



Category: The Voice (US) RPF, The Voice RPF
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mutual Pining, Past Abuse, Polyamory, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-03-10 08:06:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 64,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3283064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_rider/pseuds/dragon_rider
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forgoing conventions can be absurdly easy when the happiness of your loved ones is on the line.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [majestikmoose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/majestikmoose/gifts).



> This was heavily inspired by [Sharing is caring](http://archiveofourown.org/series/45032) by Benedicta. I just had to write something involving Behati too because I think she's great but you should all go read that if you're not bothered by the concept.

Miranda wakes up with a sigh, rolling on Blake’s empty side of the bed. Her hair spills on the pillow, the smell of her husband’s aftershave the first thing that greets her which is the next best thing without the man there to kiss her good morning.

It’s incredibly early. She rises to her feet and pads to the window just in time to catch Blake riding out of the stable on his favorite stallion.

He’s too far away for her to make up his expression but she knows him well and knows something must be troubling him to be out at this hour. He always does this when he needs to think.

She sighs again, putting on a thin silk robe on top of her nightgown so she can get started on breakfast downstairs.

She doesn’t doubt Blake will share with her what’s going on but something tells her it’ll be different this time around.

***

She’s watering and feeding the dogs when Blake comes back. He helps her after pressing a kiss to the corner of her lips, his stubble scratching just so the skin of her cheek. She smiles up at him, thankful for his timing because the pack has grown too big for her to take care of them without taking at least an hour in doing so.

She notices him staring at her legs and smiles wider to herself; whatever cause of gloom her husband has isn’t dark enough for him to get distant. They’ll be okay, they always are.

She guides him to a seat on the kitchen table and puts the biscuits and gravy she made scrambling eggs with leftover bacon she found in the fridge, laughing when Blake groans just at the sight of it and digs in after praising her cooking and leaning down to give her a proper kiss on the lips, looking content and completely at ease.

Miranda isn’t fooled by his light demeanor. She waits patiently for him to talk to her, sipping her tea and checking the news feed on her phone.

“You’re gonna laugh at this,” he starts just as they’re finishing, his lips shiny with grease that he smears on his coffee mug, “I dreamed Adam was around visiting and he wouldn’t keep still—you know how he is, has the energy of a lab pup most of the time.”

She giggles, nodding in agreement. “And what did you do to calm him down before he ruined our furniture, sweetie?”

Blake’s eyes get big at her question, his features pinched in uncharacteristic sheepishness next. “It was just a stupid dream, y’know, so I—huh—I kissed him. Worked like a charm.”

 _Oh_ , she thinks, taken slightly aback, _so you finally know._

She’s been aware of the chemistry between Blake and Adam ever since she was introduced to the front man, back when she was Blake’s fiancée. She’s no blind or insecure woman to deny there’s plain electricity between them sometimes even when they do something as innocent as looking at each other.

She’d been a little bit worried at first, warned as she’d been by everyone that Blake could do to her the same he did to his first wife whom he’d left shortly after meeting Miranda. But her fiancé had passed the test and remained faithful to her.

She’d understood that Blake and Adam were only good friends with a lot of potential to be more than that but with no chances of going down that road because of her and because of Adam’s own wife later on.

She knew that Blake had been utterly oblivious to that thing that wasn’t there between him and Adam and that couldn’t be but that crackled with promise all the same.

Until now.

She assesses her husband with a calm expression. She’s not mad at him because of the admission. She’s frankly quite relieved that Blake trusts her enough to be this honest with her.

He still gets fidgety and laughs a little too loud, even for him.

“What a stupid dream, right?” he asks, maybe not nervous to his own ears but anxious to hers.

Now that he’s painfully aware of his feelings towards Adam, Miranda almost opens her mouth to tell him it’s okay to want but she knows him too well to do that when he’s not ready so she stands up instead as he’s awkwardly pilling the dishes in the sink and kisses him.

His chest heaves when she leans into him and he’s not quick enough to hide the guilt showing in his face, in that bright blue eyes of his that Miranda loves so much.

She bites the inside of her cheek, pondering, and decides to pay closer attention to this thing for both her husband’s sake and hers.

***

The next time she sees them together they’re at day one of filming the new season of The Voice.

Adam looks dashing and gorgeous as usual. He’s bragging about getting another four chair turn, smirking in front of Blake’s chair with almost childish glee. Blake reaches for his waist, smacking a wet kiss on his cheek to make Adam swat at him to let him go. Adam still goes to sit in his lap willingly not even half an hour later as they team up to cheer for Christina in getting a singer that she likes.

They stare and joke and touch and Miranda watches it all, noting how Blake’s hands always linger on his friend’s body and how his eyes follow Adam as he retreats to his seat.

During breaks is even more obvious—they seem to dance with each other to some mute tune everybody but them can hear, always looking back at one another when they think the other isn’t looking. It’s kind of heart-wrenching to watch and she can’t believe it’s taken her this long to really see it, that she’s let Blake be miserable for this long.

She can’t talk for Adam but there’s wistfulness in Blake’s face, clear as day for her to see. He’s not stilted when he realizes she’s on set but he’s careful to avoid searching Adam too often and Adam is just as respectful of her presence, lowering his head when he sees her standing beside her husband with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

She kisses Blake softly, looking up at him with a resolute expression on her features.

She’s gonna need an ally on this one but she has an idea.

***

It’s over a month before she’s back at Los Angeles. She calls Behati instead of Blake as she’s leaving LAX and the super model is quick and cheerful in her answer, agreeing to meet her for lunch after Miranda drops her luggage at Blake’s rental house.

“We have so much catching up to do,” she says with a big grin after they kiss hello.

She tells Miranda about her last runaway show in Europe, beaming when she confides in her how much more romantic Adam has gotten ever since they got married and how he always has roses waiting for her in her hotel room when he can’t make it or even a bigger surprise when he can.

“You know, a lot of people tried talking me out of marrying him,” she admits, scowling at the memory, “He’s older than you, they said, he won’t take you seriously for too long. He’s one of those men that can only love themselves, they told me like they knew him better than I do. But we’ve been married for over a year and it’s only gotten better with time. Is it like that with you and Blake too or should I be worried it’s going to stop at some point?”

“It’ll always be like that as long as you love each other,” she reassures Behati.

“That’s what I was hoping,” the super model confesses, “I’m glad you have that too.”

Miranda doesn’t wait too long to breach the subject that she’s come to discuss. It’s not in her nature to cower from things and she needs to know Behati’s opinion on this to either stop thinking about it or start making plans for it with her help and support.

They’re sharing dessert when she speaks, tone carefully composed. “Do you know how our husbands feel about each other?”

Behati pauses with the spoon in her mouth, blinking at her with curiosity. She takes a moment to gauge the Country singer’s intentions and then smiles softy. “You should hear Adam talking about Blake; he does it almost non-stop while they’re working on the show. It’s always Blake did this or that, you should heard this joke he said, you’d laugh so much. And when the show is off-season, he’s always looking at his phone waiting for Blake to call or text him. Of course I know.”

Miranda returns the smile and nods. “Blake gets so excited when Adam goes visiting,” she confides, “He makes so many plans and gets so happy. I love seeing him like that.”

“I’ve tried talking about it with Adam,” Behati says, pursing her lips, “He always thinks I’m berating him for paying too much attention to Blake and promises me it’s ‘nothing like that’,” she makes the air quotes with her fingers, her smile turning a little resigned, “Does Blake talk to you about it?”

“Not really,” she admits, reaching for the younger woman’s hand to let her know it’s changed and that it’s important, “Not until recently. I know that he wants to be with Adam too but doesn’t dare, because of our marriage and yours.”

“Oh my God,” Behati practically squeaks, squeezing her hand in eagerness, “Honestly I’m surprised they’re not at it already. They care about each other so much, almost as much as they—“

“As they do for us,” Miranda fills in, “I know. Behati, listen, I have an idea. I need to know if it’d bother you, if they were to have something on the side.”

“I know that Adam loves me more than anything,” Behati assures, confident, “I’m not scared he’s going to forget about me if that’s what you’re thinking. I wouldn’t mind, no, but I don’t think they’re going to do anything unless—oh,” she laughs, guessing Miranda’s next words before she can even utter them. They’re going to be a good team, Miranda can tell already, “Oh, count me in. What do you have in mind?”

They finish their lunch, scheduling a visit to the Shelton’s ranch just before the live shows start.

They’ll need to be away from all the madness of the show and L.A for this and that’s just the perfect place to break the news to the boys, Miranda is sure of it.

***

They have a few weeks before this season of The Voice airs and Miranda plans to make the most of it.

Behati can’t make it the first week and she makes sure not to arrive either.

She doesn’t know what they’re going to find once they get there but she hopes Blake has come to realize his feelings for Adam won’t go away, not after the years he’s spent pushing them away to no avail.

***

They arrive almost at the same time so Miranda drives them to the ranch.

“Are you sure about this?” Behati asks. She doesn’t look like she’s getting cold feet, her expression too mischievous for Miranda to think that, “They’re going to freak out so much.”

She takes a moment to consider it, even though there are no doubts in her mind or her heart that this is the right thing to do.

She nods and goes over their plans one last time with Behati.

“Remember, we can’t tell them straight away. We need to push them closer first.”

“Piece of cake,” she says with a laugh.

Miranda is inclined to agree.

***

The first thing they do, the very next day they arrive, is leaving them alone again with the excuse of going shopping together and catching up on girls’ stuff that would bore both of them to death.

They both pout, grown ass men that they are but secretly not much older than twenty at best, and insist they can tag along to carry their bags. They’re actually very cute in how much they try to go with them but the matter is closed the second Behati asks Adam to cook her favorite dish for dinner and her husband is totally disarmed by how much she’s missed that while working abroad.

It just happens that Blake and Miranda’s kitchen has all the necessary ingredients for it.

***

When they’re back, the house smells amazing but what really takes the cake is the way both of their husbands are snuggling on the couch, fast asleep.

Blake is snoring softly, the way he always does when he’s tired or stressed. His long legs are spread for Adam to fit between them, the smaller man resting with his head shoved against his neck and his torso snug against Blake’s with his big hands on Adam’s back.

There’s a bit of flour on Adam’s nose and on Blake’s fingertips so she guesses they baked something too with the extra time they gave them if only to have something to do that wasn’t staring at each other, choking on how much they want to be together.

Miranda and Behati grin and let them sleep just a little while longer.

***

When they wake up on their own, Adam is quick to search for his wife and kiss her. He holds Behati while she’s reheating dinner and they both laugh, whispering to each other in quiet voices.

Blake is not too far behind, greeting her in much the same way but still sleepy enough that he doesn’t notice how his eyes keep wandering to the other happy couple and how his shoulders sag a little each time.

Behati looks at her in worry from behind her husband when Adam does the same as Blake nuzzles into her neck.

Miranda tries to convey patience to her but she’d be lying if she said she isn’t anxious too.

They were supposed to be more relaxed and content around each other, not to be tiptoeing around them as if they’re waiting for either of them to burst out and accuse them of something they have yet to do.

Miranda wouldn’t mind at all but has a feeling swirling in her gut that all this plotting will get them nowhere.

***

They’re inside fixing a quick lunch for the four of them. Miranda is quiet and sneaky as she watches the boys lounging by the pool outside.

She smiles to herself when Adam lets Blake help him put sunblock on his back, already a bit red with sunburn. Even from here, she can see how his body shivers every time Blake’s palms spread the lotion firmly and how her husband uses a lot more than what’s necessary if only to be able to touch the younger man a little longer, head tilted to appreciate his handiwork.

Blake doesn’t miss a single spot, finishing his task by rubbing his thumbs on Adam’s nape and making the front man lean against his touch—at least until they both catch each other’s eyes and seem to realize what they’re doing, at which point they scramble to get away from the other.

Blake’s back is tense beneath his t-shirt, his shoulders everything Miranda needs to see to know his mood has gone south in the blink of an eye.

She doubts the pink on Adam’s cheeks is sunburn too.

“No luck?” Behati asks from the stove.

Miranda sighs, shaking her head. “They’re getting there.”

***

Video games are part of Adam’s influence in Blake’s life but she’s played with him too and her husband’s gotten good enough to beat Adam quite a few times.

They play for three hours and Adam ends up winning the most. He’s teasing Blake about it and getting him to sulk when Behati leans over the back of the couch to give Blake a slight advantage on his retaliation.

“He’s very ticklish,” she reveals and Blake smiles like a loon, diving right in to attack Adam with his fingers on his belly.

Adam squeaks almost from the get go, squirming to try and get out of Blake’s reach but only making his situation worse when Blake practically tackles him and keeps tickling him on the floor.

“Cheater!” Adam squeals between fits of laughter, “Shelton, you dirty—“ he wheezes, completely at Blake’s mercy and can’t keep talking, can barely breathe as Blake sneaks clever fingers under his armpits and tickles him within an inch of his life.

Adam lets out one last yelp and pushes up from the floor to roll over Blake but only succeeds in getting Blake to sit and straddle his lap, the momentum making them both rock back and forth slightly as they stare at each other with faces flushed with exertion, Blake’s hands firm on Adam’s slim hips.

It’s like a movie in slow motion until they stand up like they’ve been stung by a bee, fast and stiff.

Miranda exchanges a look with Behati who looks slightly disappointed but amused all the same, just like her.

Adam huffs and fixes his t-shirt that rode up in the quarrel, giving Blake a dirty look from the safety of the armchair on the other side of the coffee table. He sticks his tongue out and claims he still beat the crap out of him, to which Blake replies with a roll of his eyes.

She and Behati sigh. This has been harder than they thought but they won’t give up.

***

Miranda doesn’t want to run out of time in the ranch so she talks Behati into locking the boys in the pantry.

There’s a lightbulb inside but it’s tiny, hardly enough room in it for two grown men to stand inside comfortably and that is with men of regular size, not Blake’s so it’s perfect to force them to acknowledge what they both clearly want.

They orchestrate it seamlessly—Miranda is cooking and asks Blake to get something for her from the pantry that she made sure to hide very well that morning so she makes a face when her husband takes his time in there and sends Adam to help him since Behati is busy with the salad.

Then she rushes to block the door with one of Blake’s rifles since she can’t use the key without them hearing it and knowing she’s doing it on purpose.

They scream for help not too long afterward and Behati and her promise to call a locksmith to get them out.

Miranda calls someone she already paid to pretend the lock was rusty so it got stuck and tells him to stop by in an hour.

They sit to drink tea and hope for the best.

***

They run out of jokes like twenty minutes into their accidental imprisonment.

Adam’s never been claustrophobic but he’s having trouble breathing normally with Blake flushed against him and his nose buried in the warm skin of his neck.

Blake smells amazing—sharp and slightly salty, like a good shot of tequila that is bound to make him weak at the knees and make his head spin.

Adam could just tip his head back and kiss him and okay—he’d need to stand in the tip of his toes, probably, but he can feel with burning certainty that he wouldn’t regret it. That it’d be so great he’d forget about anything the minute their lips connected and he—he just—

He can’t believe he’s thinking about it, _really_ thinking about it.

He’s the biggest asshole in the universe, has the most beautiful and incredible wife in the world and he still wants more. He should get hit by a bus, that’s how much he sucks.

It doesn’t get better when Blake’s arms wrap around him and settle on the small of his back and neck, intimate and devoted in ways Adam has always tried so hard to pretend they’re not, holding him like Adam is everything he’s ever wanted in his life and it’s—it’s not supposed to be what he wants but it is.

The minute he realizes he’s melted into the Country star’s touch he stiffens and gasps, tries to get his arms between them to get some space to fucking _breathe_ because he’s really losing it.

Blake’s hands feel so right on his body, it pains him not to be able to enjoy the moment and let go but he has to be strong for Behati.

He knows that Blake will want to be strong for Miranda too, knows this is just a moment of weakness for the two of them that can’t be repeated, that they won’t ever talk about.

“Blake,” he pants, urgent, “Blake, we can’t do this. You have to stop.”

“I know,” Blake whispers back, “We won’t, Adam. Just—just let me have this, just for one moment. Please.”

Blake sounds so heartbroken it’s the last straw for him; to know they both feel the same way but there’s nothing that can be done to make this horrible longing go away.

They’re happily married and in love with their wives, they’re just being fucking stupid trying to sabotage what they have and he wishes he could actually believe that, that he could forget all the years he’s felt a piece of his heart always leaves whenever Blake leaves his side.

He’s not strong enough to go through this without breaking but at least Blake is there to hold him while he cries, clinging to his shirt and muffling his pathetic sobs against his neck.

 _I love you_ , his tears are screaming and he thinks maybe Blake understands because his breath hitches and he all but curls around Adam, nuzzling against his hair as he makes soothing noises but doesn’t try to make him stop.

He just lets him cry so Adam does, feeling like he’s crying for the both of them and grieving the love they will never share.

***

Adam wipes his cheeks clumsily with the back of his hand and doesn’t even look at the dude who gets them out an hour later.

He’s out but he still can’t breathe.

He runs to the guestroom Behati and he are staying at and gets under the covers fully clothed after kicking off his shoes.

He feels sick and he’s trembling but he knows it’s not a disease, knows it’s not even a panic attack.

He’s just a fucking idiot.

***

Behati follows her husband after making sure both Blake and Miranda are okay—Blake looks shaken but he meets his wife’s eyes with no problem so she knows nothing happened in there, at least not in that sense.

She has no doubt something did happen, not when she finds Adam curled into a ball on the bed and hears his quiet sobs that make his whole upper body shake with how much he must be swallowing them not to worry her with the noise as if looking at him like this could make her feel anything else.

“Oh, baby,” she coos, curling up behind him and stretching to kiss the side of his neck after uncovering him enough to see him, “It’s okay, you’re okay now.”

“I’m—I’m sorry,” he hitches, lifting his head and looking at her with puffy, red and sad eyes, “God, I’m so stupid.”

She kisses the side of his face that she can reach, the one that’s not shoved back into the pillow. She waits until Adam’s sobs have quiet down simply leaning her head against his shoulder and holding him, letting him know she’s there if he needs her, if he’s ready to talk.

“I love you,” Adam says at length in the smallest of voices.

“I know,” she responds, smiling into his t-shirt and kissing his back softly right over where Frankie’s tattoo is. She knows he always melts when she does that and she’s hoping the small Star Wars reference makes him feel better too.

“I’d never—“ he starts unevenly and she knows instantly what he’s going to say.

 _I’d never cheat on you_. She knows that. She doesn’t want to hear it.

She shouldn’t have let Miranda do this. She should’ve convinced her of talking to them once and for all—they’re both so loyal to them, they should’ve known nothing good would come from pushing them.

“Shhh,” she shushes gently, “I know, babe. It’s alright.”

She knows Adam hasn’t had an anxiety attack in years but wants to offer the medication to him, the kind that doesn’t make him sleepy and just slows his heartbeat and breathing until he’s able to think again.

But this isn’t an anxiety attack and she knows that. There’s no pill to fix this—only she and Miranda can, if Adam and Blake let them.

***

She pads downstairs an hour and a half later.

Miranda and Blake are in the living room, watching some old western movie from the looks of it but pause it and eat dinner with her when they hear her.

Blake asks about Adam—of course he does—but doesn’t push when Behati says he fell asleep and she’d rather not wake him.

The only one who breaks the silence is Miranda. Behati ventures a look at Blake whenever she can but she doesn’t know how to read him, not as well as Adam, and she’d have to trust he’s affected by this judging only by how quiet he’s being instead of trying to glimpse something else in his eyes and the tense lines of his face.

Adam loves him so much—she hopes he’s aware and also thankful for that once they make this whole mess right for them.

“Tomorrow,” she tells Miranda, pecking her on the cheek as good night.

She nods, agreeing and ignoring the way Blake stares at both of them in confusion. “Tomorrow.”

She returns to the room she’s sharing with Adam and slips under the covers, holding Adam’s middle tight and kissing the back of his neck softly not to wake him.


	2. Chapter 2

Blake tells himself he’s not being a creep as he waits for Adam to get out of the guestroom in the morning after a night of tossing and only getting some sleep once Miranda calmed him down enough for it.

He’d been so worried about Adam, so worried he’d upset him for being selfish enough not to let him go fast enough but he tried—oh, how he tried—he tried and he just couldn’t do it.

He convinced himself it was just a hug between good friends and didn’t even feel bad about it until Adam had dashed up the stairs and missed dinner.

He’d almost told Miranda about what happened too but chickened out at the last minute. His wife is an understanding, amazing woman but there has to be a limit to that and it has to be somewhere close to her husband being a little bit in love with one of his closest friends.

What he feels for Adam has always been so strong it doesn’t matter they’re both men and Blake isn’t gay—it doesn’t matter he’s been committed to someone else for as long as they’ve known each other, it’s always been there anyway; pressing down on him whenever he lets it and whenever he just isn’t strong enough to resist a bit of the almost gravitational pull Adam has on him and wraps his arms around Adam for longer than he’s allowed to.

When Adam finally emerges from the room sleepy-eyed and sluggish, Blake has to curl his fingers in a fist to quell the need to ruffle his soft, tousled hair.

“’Morning,” he greets softly, “You okay?”

Adam looks up at him for only a second, avoiding his eyes next. Blake sees his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Hey. Yeah, you?”

He shrugs as an answer.

Having him here—so close but so completely out of his reach—is both a dream and a nightmare.

Blake wouldn’t change it, wouldn’t trade what he has with Miranda to have something with Adam. There are things that hurt because they feel meant to be but aren’t and this is just one of them. He’s gonna make his peace with that eventually, he’s sure of it.

Eventually, it won’t hurt this much.

“The girls are still asleep, aren’t they?” Adam nods and he squeezes the smaller man’s shoulder, cocking his head towards the kitchen, “You hungry? Let me cook you some real breakfast.”

Adam leans into his touch with a small smile, letting Blake lead him forward. “Okay, but nothing too greasy or I’m gonna throw it up all over your face, dipshit.”

Blake snorts. “You’re a freaking rude guest, you know that? Jackass.”

Adam heads out to the patio, most of the dogs wagging their tails at the company but already sort of used to seeing him stretching on the grass doing his morning yoga. Adam pets them for a few moments and then starts stretching from the tip of his head to his toes and Blake’s breath burns inside his lungs.

He doesn’t understand how someone can be so alluring and downright picture-perfect but still annoying as Hell sometimes. He loves every bit of who Adam is, including the latter, and knows he’s just as annoying. That’s why they get along so well and why—why they could work so well if circumstances were different.

Blake indulges in staring, straining his ears in case Miranda and Behati come down.

He almost chops his own fingers quite a few times for being so distracted.

***

Adam is washing the dishes—there’s a dishwasher but Blake doesn’t point that out, understanding the need of having something to do more than well—and he’s just done tending to the dogs when the girls finally come into the kitchen.

They look so serious that Blake’s heart jumps hard enough to knock the breath out of him.

Did Adam tell Behati what happened? Did they figure it out by themselves? Fucking Christ, they did nothing, they just—they can’t help the way they feel but it doesn’t mean they’re gonna act on it.

They’re better than that, both of them, and they thankfully love their wives too much when it turns out they’re just not.

“Honey,” Blake chokes, “What is it?”

“We need to talk to you both,” Miranda replies firmly. She doesn’t exactly look mad but Blake is terrified and maybe he’s missing some signs. She’s always been the one who reads him best, “Come to the living room when you’re ready, please.”

Adam almost breaks the plate he’s holding, scrambling to hold it when it slips through his fingers. He turns to look at his wife with a frightened expression on his face and she smiles at him, reassuring, but leaves to follow Miranda without a word.

“Oh God,” Adam mutters, grabbing the edge of the sink in a white-knuckled grip, “I’m going to pass out.”

“It’s gonna be okay,” Blake says, probably to convince the two of them, stepping closer to lend Adam some strength to keep standing by putting a hand on the small of his back.

“They _know_ , can’t you tell?” and Blake does, he really does. Adam turns to look at him over his shoulder, pressing, “What are we going to _do_ , Blake? I can’t—I don’t like being away from you but I love her, if she asks me—“

“I know,” he smiles sadly, feeling vile with how much he enjoys when Adam snuggles into him briefly, gripping his arm tight and nuzzling into his neck before stepping aside, “Let’s just do whatever we need to keep them.”

Walking to the living room feels like a death sentence.

Their wives are sitting on one of the sofas side by side, like a seamless united front ready to shoot them both to oblivion if they make a mistake.

They sit opposite to them, nervous as all Hell, and when Adam curls into himself and hides his face in his hands he can’t help but rub his back soothingly with a hand.

It’s probably making them look guiltier to their eyes but Blake can’t stand seeing Adam like this without doing anything. He just can’t.

“We haven’t been completely honest with you,” Miranda says after exchanging one last glance with Behati, “We wanted the four of us to be all here because we’ve had enough of watching you do this,” she gestures to them and Blake removes his hand from Adam’s back, dread turning to acid in the pit of his stomach, “You’re hurting and we don’t like that.”

Adam is staring at the two women from between his fingers, his breath speeding up until he reels it in for a few moments only to restart again.

“Please,” the front man mumbles, “We haven’t done anything, we just—“

“Adam, we know,” Behati cuts in, tender, “Breathe, okay? We’re not mad. You’re not listening.”

Blake is listening and he’s not sure he’s doing it right—they can’t possibly be implying that—

He frowns, baffled, and waits for them to go on.

“We know you want to be together,” Miranda admits, “We’ve known for a while. And we’re okay with that.”

Blake could swear his brain is short-circuiting.

Either that or he’s having the weirdest dream.

“We know you’re happy with us,” Behati adds, “That you don’t want to hurt us but you won’t. We want you to be the happiest you can be and you need each other for that, just as much as you need us.”

“That’s why we’ve been trying to get you two together,” Miranda confesses, her cheeks turning pink in that way Blake knows happens when she did something she’s not proud of, “Leaving you here alone, locking you up yesterday—I thought it’d help you realize how much you’d love being together but it was a bad idea and I’m sorry for not being honest with you from the start.”

She pauses to look at him before going back to look at Adam, clearly apologizing to him the most, and Blake has to rub his face with a hand as harshly as he can because this can’t be happening.

This doesn’t happen to people in real life—this—this has to be a test or something.

He looks at Adam who hasn’t calmed down and is confused on top of panicking now, feeling a lump in his throat.

“’Ran, this isn’t funny,” he croaks, turning to his wife, “You know I’d never do that to you, that you’re more than enough for me.”

“It’s not a joke, Blake,” Miranda insists, “It’s not supposed to be funny. No one is laughing here. Look at me and tell me you actually think I’d trick you like this only to yell at you later. Come on.”

He does and he can’t believe how sincere she seems, can’t believe this is no trap, that they could actually be okay with—with what? Adam and he screwing each other silly?

“Is there someone else?” Blake asks, careful to keep his tone calm, “You let us do this and we let you do something else in return, is that what’s going on here?”

“There’s no one else,” Behati answers, shaking her head as she seems to plead with her eyes for them to believe in what’s happening, “And this isn’t a free pass for you to sleep with whoever you want, just with the two of you and with us, that’s it.”

“Bee—“ Adam breathes out, straightening for the first time since they’ve started talking, “I—I don’t know what to say.”

“You can thank me later,” she grins and winks at him, checking with Miranda before standing up and going to kiss her husband briefly on the lips, “Have fun today, okay? I’m taking Miranda to a spa for the day.”

His own wife leans down to kiss him deeply but fleetingly, leaving him stunned where he’s sitting.

“See you tonight when we’re back,” she says and he finally gets why they both look ready to go out so early.

They’ve really been planning all this—to get them together, as unlikely as that is.

They turn to look at each other slowly after the door closes.

“You think they mean it?” Adam asks, his hands already cupping Blake’s cheeks as if he couldn’t help himself, “You think we could really—“

“Gosh, Adam, I don’t know,” he states, kissing Adam’s palm as their faces get closer and closer, “But I want to try.”

It’s as far as they discuss it, tipping their heads in sync for the right angle to kiss the very next second.

Adam moans into his mouth instantly and Blake gets it, he does. He groans with how just the small touch ignites fireworks in his gut and reaches to grip Adam’s nape to keep him still as he sticks his tongue in his mouth and takes control of the contact.

Adam lets him have it with no resistance; his arms snaking down around his neck as their lips glide on one another and their tongues flick hotly wherever they can reach. His body is nimble in straddling Blake’s lap and start grinding against his groin and Blake encourages it with a hand on Adam’s hipbone, pushing him down so he can feel how Blake is already half-hard for him.

They take their time learning to drive the other crazy with kisses and hardly anything else, their mouths clever as they nip and suck and slide over kiss-swollen lips with increasing urgency.

“Blake,” Adam murmurs breathlessly every time they part for air for scant seconds.

Blake would give anything to keep hearing his name like that, it feeds the fire inside of him so thoroughly he doesn’t even realize he’s sucking a mark on Adam’s collarbone until he feels him arching against him and hears him moaning for him so prettily his dick twitches heartily in his jeans.

When their hands begin to wander on their bodies, it’s to tug and get clothes out of the way, to feel hot skin beneath their fingers. Adam unbuttons his shirt with shaky but nifty movements and Blake gets rid of his t-shirt, shivering when the younger man licks a stripe over his chest hair to his left nipple and stays there to suckle.

He hisses with want, hands fumbling to grope Adam’s ass cheeks and groaning at realizing they fit perfectly in his palms.

Adam responds searching for his lips again and Blake gives him the filthiest kiss he’s capable of, a string of saliva connecting them when Adam breaks apart with his gaze focused on something down between them.

Of course he’s the first one to venture inside their pants—Blake’s specifically, a hand closing around his dick just tight enough to make it good, and the Country star isn’t ready for the way Adam licks his lips and stares at him dead in the eye with a clear goal in mind, but he eases his grip on him and let him slip to the floor between his legs all the same.

Adam flattens his tongue against his slit, the tip of it playing softly with his frenulum and making Blake’s eyes roll to the back of his head so fast he thinks he might black out.

His mouth hangs open in a silent moan that gets loud and stuttered once Adam takes the head into his mouth, breathing carefully through his nose and keeping his teeth out of the way. His tongue keeps working its magic on his glans as he hollows his cheeks to apply much-needed pressure around Blake’s cock, playing a little with the foreskin as if he were tasting a treat for the first time.

He’s not even taking him half the way down his throat yet and Blake has a feeling he won’t get farther than that, given how hung he is and how little experience Adam must have in this, but his hips are bucking against his will already and somewhere along the way his hand made it to the back of Adam’s head to ensure he’d stay there.

“Fuck, Adam,” Blake marvels, blinking repeatedly because he feels like he’s seeing stars, “Like that, Jesus, don’t stop.”

Adam can’t exactly smirk but Blake sees the smugness shining bright in his hazel eyes blown almost black with lust. He closes his eyes each time he sucks particularly hard and Blake is grateful he does; he’s sure he couldn’t handle those eyes plus the hot picture his pink lips make stretched around his cock. He just couldn’t, he’d come on the spot.

Adam’s hand makes a tight tunnel for the extent of his shaft he can’t swallow and it’s a little dry but Blake hardly notices, absolutely lost in the tantalizing bobbing of Adam’s head around the rest of him. His other hand pinches Blake’s thigh through his jeans every time he gets a little overexcited and practically chokes Adam on  his length, even making him gag a couple of times.

He’s glad the smaller man is a stubborn little shit and refuses to pull off until he’s made Blake fall apart.

His head falls to the back of the couch without his say-so as he moans, his free hand gripping the fabric of a cushion so hard he wouldn’t be surprised if he leaves a mark. It only seems to encourage Adam who goes to town on him, honing skills that seem to come natural to him with each sound and move Blake makes in response to his ministrations.

He barely has enough presence of mind to straighten and try to warn Adam he’s about to come—not that it does any good, Adam seems as lost in what he’s doing as Blake is at taking it, and doesn’t stop not even when Blake pulls hard at his hair.

He only succeeds in making Adam suck harder, looking up at him with challenge in his eyes, and then Blake is a goner—he comes with a loud groan, the head of his cock bouncing on Adam’s chin when he finally pulls off and spits some of his jizz only for the rest to land on his face.

There’s even some of it on Adam’s lashes and he wants to lick it all, bites his lip as his dick jerks valiantly despite he’s just had one of the best orgasms of his life.

“C’mere,” he rasps, not even waiting for an answer and pulling Adam back into his lap.

He scrambles to unzip him as he kisses and laps at his cheekbones, his nose, just everywhere that’s got white smeared on it and Adam is already rutting against his hand, eyes closed and cheeks flushed as he moans.

Blake can tell he’s close and wants to get him there fast, dabs the mess on Adam’s face with a hand as the front man chuckles huskily and chokes on his breath when Blake licks his own palm quickly to wrap it around Adam’s dick and jerk him off as good as he can make it.

Adam’s cock is just as lean and gorgeous as he is, moving smoothly in the passage Blake made for it. He’s circumcised as Blake figured he would be and he doesn’t know whether that’s what makes him so responsive to just his fingers or not but the instant he flicks his thumb over the head Adam shoots onto his stomach, hips still caught in a frantic rhythm to get off until he’s done emptying himself on Blake’s skin.

Blake is still fondling him when he all but crumbles and curls against him, completely spent.

“S-Stop,” Adam stutters, tucking his head beneath Blake’s chin but doing no actual move to stop him so he keeps going, almost mesmerized by the sensation of the now soft length inside his fist, “ _Blake_.”

He chuckles when Adam’s hands tug weakly at his open shirt, enjoying the feel of Adam’s warm little body snuggling against him and his cock resting between them.

“No can do,” he replies, keeping his strokes soft and slowing them down when Adam shudders and makes a pained noise in the back of his throat, “I’m not done with you, baby, not even close.”

He kisses Adam, slow but deep, to get his mind off of it and taste himself in his mouth. He doesn’t know if it works or not but Adam kisses him back and nips at his bottom lip in a way that’s anything but reluctant so he’s willing to bet he’s on the right track.

“We should— _ah_ ,” Adam hitches, his cock stirring after long minutes of inactivity and teasing from Blake, “Get to a bed.”

Blake is almost half-hard again just at the thought of having Adam spread on a mattress beneath him so he doesn’t even warn Adam and picks him up, stopping the sweet torture he’s been submitting him just for a little while.

Adam yelps but complies, wrapping his arms and legs around him and assisting him when he decides to take off those irritating skinny jeans of his in the middle of the hallway.

They leave the rest of their clothing in much the same way, forming a path to the other guestroom of the house blindly since they can’t stop making out no matter how much they need to look where they’re going—and bumping into quite a few things as a result, chuckling into each other’s mouths with just how eager they are—or breathe a little not to get lightheaded.

Blake feels like he’s high when they’re kissing heatedly on the bed and their shafts rub against each other as they try to crawl under the other’s skin with every brush of their tongues and hands on their bodies.

The blinds of the room are wide open, sunlight bathing Adam’s silhouette in golden hues that take Blake’s breath away.

He’s seen him almost naked in pictures and videos and by the pool more than once but nothing compares to having him like this and knowing he’s all his to worship. He leans down to pepper Adam’s right shoulder with kisses, relishing how hairless and smooth Adam is as he keeps mouthing his way down his body.

Adam can’t really keep still, at least not in that moment, but Blake doesn’t even think of complaining when the younger man surges for his mouth and lets Blake smear his stomach with pre-come as they kiss the living daylights out of each other.

It’s a battle of wills then; Blake wants Adam to lie down to taste and appreciate him and Adam doesn’t want to let go of him and is doing his damnedest to stop their sweaty skin from not being pressed together.

It’s fun, he can’t deny it, it’s fucking thrilling; trying to get Adam’s lithe limbs to do what he wants only for him to sneak out from under him faster than he can grab him and distract him with more kisses and gropes.

It goes on until luck has them on the same page again as Blake finds the space between Adam’s thighs to rock his hips into, one arm holding Adam’s middle and his fist snaking around his hip to close around Adam’s cock to jack him in time with his messy thrusts.

The pressure is not enough, not at first, but Adam accommodates to him so fast it’s like he was made to respond to his needs and closes his legs just so to leave about enough room for Blake to wet the smooth skin there with his pre-come and slide in and out of the comfy place he’s found to fuck.

He leans his forehead between Adam’s shoulder blades, eyes shut tight in pleasure, and smirks a little more with each moan and shiver he rips out of his small lover.

He never knew being with a man could be so easy, so instinctive.

He seals his mouth over Adam’s spine right on the base of his neck at the same time he picks up the pace with both his hand and hips, hearing Adam grunt his name like it’s been punched out of him when he spurts all over the sheets.

Blake is close behind, letting go of Adam’s cock this time in favor of gripping his hipbones and keeping him in place as he humps him. As soon as he feels he’s about to come, he stops and rests his cock right where the cleft of Adam’s ass is born, stroking himself as he shoots his load between his cheeks and rubs it against the skin there with the tip of his cock.

Adam turns his head just enough to look at him, licks his lips as his eyes roam Blake’s body hungrily as if they hadn’t spent the better part of the last couple of hours fucking more desperately than a couple of college students.

“You’re gonna fuck me next, cowboy?” he asks, voice husky like he’s been eating dick for five years instead of one day. It goes straight to Blake’s groin, spent as he is, “Gonna fuck me good?”

It’s his turn to grunt, folding around Adam and shoving them both to lie on their sides on the clean bottom sheet.

“You can bet your sweet ass I will,” he promises, bending to brush his wet lips against Adam’s shoulder up to his ear and sucking the lobe into his mouth greedily, grinning around it when he feels Adam shivering and panting against him, “Ever had a dick down there, rock star? Think you can take mine? I’m a big boy, you’ve seen me.”

Adam laughs, still winded, and tilts his head towards him again. “Never had a dick in my mouth either and I think I managed that pretty well, don’t you think?”

“Cocky, huh?” Blake laughs too and soothes the skin on Adam’s ear with gentle kisses, trailing them to the back of his neck to nuzzle there, “Maybe I’ll fuck that outta you, we’ll see.”

“You can try,” Adam hums, sounding half-way to being asleep.

He closes his eyes, his soft cock nestled between Adam’s tender cheeks.

***

“Finally,” Adam hears when his eyes flutter open, Blake’s hoarse and impatient tone sending blood rushing to his groin so fast he gets dizzy.

He tries to palm his dick but Blake bats his hands away, grabbing his hips to lift them off the mattress and brushing a finger right between his ass cheeks.

He pauses on his perineum, his thumb caressing the skin there making Adam’s toes curl as Blake’s other fingers play with his balls.

He spreads his legs, inviting, and moans obscenely enough to make a porn star blush when one of Blake’s fingertips rubs unrelentingly at the puckered skin of his hole and sends shocks of anticipation through his spine.

He’s glad he didn’t know even this little would feel this good—he’s not sure he would’ve been able to hold back otherwise.

It’s all it takes for Blake to dip the tip in, pushing carefully until his first knuckle goes in.

It’s not uncomfortable, just a little weird, and Adam clamps down on it curiously only to laugh under his breath when Blake grunts and leans down to nip at one of the dimples of his back.

“Christ, Adam,” he drawls, amazed, and Adam feels his big dick already rock hard against his thigh, “You’ve never even fingered yourself?”

“Have you?” Adam tosses back, looking over his shoulder with another wiseass remark ready but crying out when Blake shoves his finger the rest of the way in.

It’s too dry and Blake seems to realize that at the same time he does. He withdraws with a dissatisfied quirk on his lips and gets up from the bed to walk buck naked to the bathroom, coming back quickly with a bottle that Adam suspects is hair conditioner.

He couldn’t care less—he’ll be glad for the easier slide, sure, but he’d let Blake fuck him raw if he had to. He’d deal with the pain later and wouldn’t regret it, not even one bit.

He arches his back, goading Blake into pushing another finger into him. He does just that and it’s a tighter fit but it goes in without any sting and Adam settles his arms on the pillow beneath his head as he gets used to the feeling of being stretched.

He rocks his hips back, getting the two digits up his ass even deeper just to try it out at the same time Blake curls them and then he’s seeing sparks behind his eyelids and letting out a high-pitched sound he’s not sure can be called a moan.

He looks back again, face flushed, and catches Blake leaning to map the small of his back with kisses, his stubble scratching his skin just on the right side of pleasant.

“Fuck, Adam,” he whispers, staring at him with pupils so wide it looks like he’s wired up on something, “You gotta make that noise for me again.”

He doesn’t even get to dignify that with an answer; Blake is a quick study and his fingertips touch the same spot inside of Adam, making his elbows buckle and a shudder go through his body as he keens for him again.

“Yeah,” the older man rumbles, voice so deep and pleased Adam gasps just at the sound of it, “Just like that, darling.”

Adam feels his cock leaking almost steadily as his lover’s thick fingers twist and scissor in him, alternating the mild but pleasing rubs in his inner walls with ruthless pressure in that one place that makes every nerve-ending in his body sing.

He doesn’t dare touch it, afraid to come with the smallest of caresses there. He looks at it jutting between his legs, his head upside-down as Blake keeps fingering him, his arms limp on his sides.

He’s no stranger to good, mind-blowing sex but he’s never been on the receiving end of things and the easiness with which he’s made the switch astounds him.

He still feels too full when Blake ventures a third finger inside of him. He knows it’s necessary but it cuts the breath he was taking in half and seems to trap it in his lungs despite of how fucking turned on he is, how much he’s practically gagging for Blake’s dick and still can’t open up to him fast enough.

His lover notices the tenseness immediately, reading him like a book, and flips him over one-handed to leave him lying on his back.

Adam is able to breathe with just how surprised he is for being manhandled so easily.

“Blake?” he calls, hesitant, hoping the Country singer isn’t frustrated just yet. He’s really trying and he really, really wants it.

“Shhh,” Blake shushes him, using his free hand to push his left thigh to the side. Adam gets with the program and spreads his legs more for him, breath hitching again when Blake’s gaze zeroes in on his crotch as he licks his lips, “I’ve got you, just try to relax again.”

He was getting soft without even noticing but Blake fixes it with enthusiastic licks to the underside of his shaft and sucking the head into his mouth.

He hums around it when Adam all but screams at the attention, feeling Blake’s fingers start to move inside him again and stimulating that sweet spot that makes him both jump and melt on the mattress.

The vibrations toss him over the edge so quickly he can’t even warn Blake about it but he doesn’t seem to mind one bit, swallowing it all and lapping at his slit as Adam’s chest heaves and he covers his eyes with an arm, his throat already dry with how much he’s cried out today despite it’s hardly past noon.

He clenched hard around Blake’s fingers while he was coming but now he’s so loose from his orgasm Blake starts fucking him with them, pushing them in and out with a squelchy sound that makes Adam blush up to his forehead.

Blake releases his length with a wet pop, smiling like the cat that got the cream while Adam can only stare at him and try to catch his breath.

“Good?” he asks, straightening to kiss Adam’s thigh as his legs remain spread-eagled for him to kneel in between.

“Yeah,” Adam croaks, eyelids fluttering when Blake’s fingers go in just right, his mouth slack with pleasure, “Yeah, keep going.”

“You sure you want this?” Blake asks, sounding so worried Adam would glare and smack him in the head if he could muster strength to do it, “It’s gonna be a tight fit, Adam, you’re so fucking tight. I’d be happy just watching you take my fingers like you’re doing right now.”

“Oh, so you don’t want to fuck me anymore?” Adam teases him weakly, staring at the ceiling since he can’t fucking _move_ , “You’re saying you gonna wait?”

“I’m saying I wanna do this right,” Blake drawls firmly.

When he pulls out of him, Adam can’t cover his mouth fast enough to prevent a whimper from rushing out his throat.

He’s ready to beg Blake to fuck him when he hears the cap of the bottle of conditioner.

He opens his eyes again to see the taller man coating his dick with a generous amount of it and chuckles faintly.

“I’m gonna try,” Blake announces, a little sheepish.

“Thank fuck,” Adam swears, making the effort to sit up enough to reach for Blake’s middle with his arms.

Blake leans down to kiss him as his cock brushes against his hole. The kiss is slow and messy as Blake pushes in little by little until suddenly his glans breaches him and Adam stops breathing, his mouth open in a silent scream as he feels tears gathering quickly in the corner of his eyes.

He doesn’t want to blink, has the feeling that if he cries now this will be over before it starts.

Thankfully Blake seems to be overcome with pleasure and hides his face against his neck, one of his hands weaving around Adam to lift his hips a little bit and press them closer together.

“Jesus fuck,” Blake grunts, mouthing at his neck, “You’re tighter than I thought and so hot, I want to die inside you.”

Adam clings to his back, blunt nails digging into firm muscles, as Blake thrusts in another inch. It feels like he’s being split in two and not in a good way, at least not yet, but he focuses on Blake’s words and how much he seems to be enjoying it and holds on to that instead of the pain.

It’s his first time so it’s supposed to hurt, right?

He tries not to move his legs but they twitch when he takes another two more inches of Blake in and he whimpers and thrashes under his lover.

“Adam?” Blake calls this time, concerned, raising his head and going wide-eyed when he sees the wetness in his cheeks, “Shit, I’m hurting you, I’m gonna pull—“

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Adam roars, “Fuck me or I’ll fuck myself on your dick, I swear to—“

He swears he bursts into flames when Blake’s cock brushes his prostate and he lets out a loud, long wail in both relief and pleasure.

Blake rearranges them in the bed until Adam is in his lap with his dick buried between his cheeks and thumbs at his face to wipe the tears there.

“Your pace,” Blake whispers, leaning down to lap at his nipples, his hands flushing Adam to his chest trapping his barely interested dick between them, “Until I’m all the way in, honey.”

Adam takes a shuddering breath, arching against Blake’s big hands, and locks his knees at each side of Blake’s hips as much as he can—Blake is broader than him and so fucking tall, he’s never felt as small and vulnerable as he is now trying to get his cock inside him while being cradled in his arms.

He holds on to Blake’s shoulders, panting loudly and whimpering each time he can get him to brush just where he needs him. Little by little he takes Blake in, all the while being soothed and smooched patiently by his lover.

“You’re doing so good,” he praises, his lips warm against Adam’s sticky temple, “Not many women were able to take me the first time around, y’know. You’re so amazing.”

Adam takes the hint, knows Miranda and no one else could’ve achieved such a feat and that just hardens his resolve to be just as good for Blake.

Being headstrong pays off wonderfully and once Blake is balls deep within him he takes over again, looming over Adam with just one arm on the bed to bear his weight, and begins thrusting in slowly but thoroughly so that Adam feels every minute quiver of his hole around him and every slide of Blake’s dick in his inner walls.

It gets good the way a rollercoaster ride does—all at once and not stopping for an instant until it’s over.

Adam has always been kinda loud in bed but now he’s practically howling as he writhes beneath Blake and even the weight of him on top of him gets him off, getting him hard again just as the steady but gradual speeding up of Blake’s hips does.

By the time Blake tilts his head down to kiss him, they’re both so far gone they mostly pant into their mouths and nip at each other’s lips but Adam stretches up to meet him, too grateful and addicted to Blake’s lips to do anything but.

He can hardly see him, his eyes open in a thin line and his face so hot he swears he’s suffocating, but he catches a glimpse of his curls in disarray dripping with sweat and Blake’s features taut with pleasure and commits it to memory.

He gets one of his legs around Blake, digging his heel hard into his back, his other leg hanging to his side as Blake slams into him faster and deeper each time, groaning and calling out his name so much he gets hoarse from it every time Adam clamps around him. The bed creaks under them, the noise of the slap of their skin spurring them on to hold on to each other tighter and keep going until they simply can’t anymore.

Blake reaches for the headboard blindly, taking him in his other hand as his hips lose their rhythm and it’s as far as Adam gets—he comes shouting his lover’s name, gasping loudly when he feels Blake’s seed hot and plentiful inside of him a moment later as the taller man groans for Adam like it hurts but it’s the best fucking thing he’s ever felt all the same.

“I love you,” it’s the first thing Blake says in the afterglow, voice fucked-out, “Adam, I love you so much.”

Adam reaches up to smooth his brown curls with a hand, fighting the pull of sleep to smile gratefully at him.

“Me too,” he whispers back, drained, “Told you it’d be great.”

Blake chuckles and for once doesn’t tease him for being smug.

He just kisses him and pulls the comforter over them after rolling them to their sides again.

It seems it’s his favorite position to get some sleep and Adam loves it too, how it allows them to cuddle until there’s no space between them at all.

He falls asleep with his ear pressed to Blake’s chest, hearing the loud and fast pounding of his heart.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys thought I was done? Nope. Not quite.

His grumbling stomach wakes him and Blake indulges in the feeling of being inside Adam even soft as he is for a few moments.

He kisses his nape and pulls out slowly. Adam whimpers, burrowing into the pillow beneath his head, and he does his best to soothe him when he rouses suddenly and frantically searches for him.

“I’m here, Adam,” he whispers, turning Adam around gently so he can look at him, “I’m here.”

Adam’s breathing gets a little more regular, color rising to his cheeks when he realizes what caused his reaction and he squirms, shy. “Sorry, I just feel really weird without—without you there.”

“Gosh, Adam,” he breathes out, trying his damnedest not to fuck Adam again right then and there, “Don’t say shit like that when I need to eat. Now I don’t want to get out of bed.”

Adam giggles, snuggling under his chin for a moment or two before breaking apart to peck him on the lips dozily. “Bring me some water?”

“You’re not hungry?” Blake asks, frowning.

They’ve been going at it like bunnies, Adam should be starving in his opinion.

“Thirsty,” Adam slurs, heaving a deep sigh before going limp with sleep.

Blake shakes his head and stands on wobbly legs to cook some lunch for the two of them, figuring Adam will want to eat at some point.

***

“Blake, I don’t think—“ Adam stutters after barely touching the burritos Blake put in front of him when he woke up. At least he did gulp the whole bottle of water Blake brought for him, “I don’t think I can do it right now.”

He huffs, amused but also slightly offended. “Give me some credit, would you, you idiot?” he says, “I drew a bath for us to relax, I’m not gonna jump you—well, not that I don’t want to, but I’m pretty beat too.”

Adam blinks. “Didn’t take you for the sort that likes baths, Big Country, but I’m not going to complain.”

“That’s funny ‘cause you’re actually complaining right now,” Blake counters but he scoops Adam up all the same, kissing his cheek when he glares up at him.

“Fuck you,” Adam curses him half-heartedly, rubbing at his eyes as if staying awake was taking all of his energy, “I can walk.”

Blake laughs and walks them to the master bathroom where the tub is big enough for the two of them. They wash the worst of their activities off in the shower first and then soak together, Blake settling behind Adam with a happy sigh.

The water is just the right side of too hot and he enjoys watching the steam rise off Adam’s skin, grabbing a sponge to scrub the inner side of his legs as Adam supports his back against his chest, completely pliant and quiet, lifting his leg from the water when Blake holds his foot up and keeping it there.

He still can’t believe he’s allowed to touch Adam like this, to admire just how outright perfect every inch of his body is whenever he damn pleases.

“I could get used to this,” Blake admits almost sheepishly, nosing the spot behind Adam’s ear.

Adam holds his other hand and squeezes tight, pressing a smile to his neck. “Me too.”

***

Blake puts one of the pool chairs under the biggest sun umbrella in his patio and makes sure to bring some drinks and snacks too since he isn’t planning to come back into the house in a long while.

His only plan is to spend the afternoon making out with Adam outdoors, maybe watch him swim if Adam feels like it at some point.

They do make out—a _lot_ and holy crap, some of the things Adam does with his tongue should be illegal—and eat most of the food he brought but they’re so engrossed in each other it’s not until they’re both naked and _wanting_ that they remember they’re outside.

There’s no one around to watch them and the possibility of the girls coming back early and seeing them going at it isn’t enough to go back inside.

“We need to buy lube,” Adam babbles breathlessly, Blake’s cock teasing his hole as he straddles his lap and they both eye the olive oil doubtfully, “You think that’ll do? Fuck, I want you so bad right now I don’t even care, just—just put it in me.”

Blake is sourly tempted but the thought of causing Adam any discomfort—any _more_ discomfort, he should say—stops him in his tracks.

He reaches for the oil and slicks his dick with it, using his wet fingers to prep Adam for him as his little lover sprawls on the chair and holds his legs open for him.

Getting three fingers in him isn’t as tough as the first time but it does take a while—by then, they’re both leaking and desperate and give no second thoughts to having sex right in the open.

He starts fucking Adam without waiting for him to open up for him all the way, little thrusts and mostly grinding of his hips as they try to pick up a rhythm with only half of his dick inside him, but they get there soon enough and once he’s buried to the hilt it’s easy to find the right angle to make Adam thrash and moan for him, his head thudding against the back of the chair as he arches and takes every last bit of what Blake has to give him clinging to him with all limbs as if Blake were the only thing anchoring him to life.

Blake goes a little wild. Adam doesn’t complain.

It’s a wonder the pool chair doesn’t break beneath them.

***

Adam tricks him into the pool not long afterward, saying it’s the easiest way to wash while actually wanting to get dirtier in it.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he divulges, throaty, and practically begging as he grips the edge of the pool with both arms and arches his back so his backside is a tempting offer Blake can’t refuse.

He looks at him over his shoulders, eyes pretty much screaming _please_ , and Blake can’t cover him with his body fast enough—can’t slip his cock right back in and fuck him slow and steady right where Adam wants fast enough.

The water rippling around them is a nice sensation to add, the coolness of it letting Blake last longer than he’s been able to do on solid ground.

He fucks Adam until he’s sobbing with pleasure, little hitching sounds and wails everything that makes it out of his mouth, fucks him until his cock is so hard he feels it might fall off if he doesn’t come right the fuck _now_.

And he does, pressing Adam’s arms roughly against the concrete with his own, his hands struggling to retain a solid grip on the edge.

Adam comes almost in sync with him, only the friction provided between Blake’s body and the side of the pool touching his member.

Blake would tease him about it but he liked it a little too much for that—he’s not about to ruin his chances of Adam letting him draw it out again in the future.

He’s not about to ruin anything between them at all, ever.

***

They take a short nap and Adam wakes Blake by sucking his fingers into his mouth, outlining them with his tongue and latching on to them when the taller man is finally aware of his surroundings again.

“It’s gonna get dark soon,” he remarks between licks, smirking around Blake’s thick fingers when the Country singer kicks off the comforter and palms at his cock with clumsy movements.

It’s only half-hard but it’s already impressive in length and Adam feels his mouth watering at the thought of having it in his mouth again. He’s actually too sore for anything else so it’s perfect that he wants to do this now.

“We—we should probably get another shower,” Blake stammers, voice gruff, and when Adam raises an eyebrow at him and looks down at the hardness between his legs he adds, rushed, “After.”

“Hmm-mm,” Adam agrees, kissing his way lightly down Blake’s chest until he can seal his mouth around the tip of his dick, making sure to flick his tongue in all the right places to have his lover groaning and bucking his hips up almost in desperation not too long afterward.

He tries deep throating him more this time, slurping around him carefully and stopping each time his gag reflex is about to get the better of him. His eyes well up with tears from the effort and he blinks quickly to get rid of them, grateful when Blake uses the hand that’s not gripping the back of his neck to wipe them because it was getting hard to see.

“You don’t—Christ, you don’t have to—“ Blake struggles to speak, arching off the bed and into Adam’s willing mouth.

The thing is, he _wants_ to.

He hollows his cheeks, sucking for all he’s worth, and lets go of both Blake’s thigh and the base of his shaft. He looks up at him, expectant, and Blake makes a guttural sound that has Adam leaking pre-come as he gets the idea and starts to fuck his mouth in earnest.

His grasp on Adam’s nape gets tighter, almost painfully so, but Adam supports his weight on his arms and moans around the girth in his mouth, suppressing the coughs that tickle the back of his throat when the tip of Blake’s dick touches him there.

He doesn’t try to swallow—maybe he will later on, he kind of didn’t like that part—but he does close his eyes as Blake comes on his face, blinking blearily at him once he’s done.

The taste on his tongue is heady but Blake does a wonderful job at licking it out of his mouth, lapping his face like a dog to clean it from the little amount of semen he still had in him after fucking Adam six ways to Sunday and then some.

He doesn’t tell Blake he’s sore when he takes care of Adam having him sit on two of his fingers at the edge of the bed as he kneels on the floor and sucks him sloppily.

He finds that he doesn’t care much and focuses on how fucking amazing it feels, rocking his hips up into Blake’s eager mouth and down onto his clever fingers until he’s coming with a hoarse, almost silent moan.

He has no idea how he’s going to walk after today.

His legs feel funny, like they’re not quite there and made of jelly, so he doesn’t object when Blake carries him to the shower and washes both of them perfunctorily before dressing and darting out of the room in search of some clothes for Adam to wear.

Adam is pretty much a rag doll as Blake helps him into loose sweatpants and a white t-shirt.

He snoozes, curling on Blake’s chest like a cat, and tells himself he’ll move in a bit to clean some of the mess they made before Behati and Miranda are back.

***

The house is quiet when they go inside.

Behati exchanges a look with Miranda, a part of her worried that maybe the guys had some horrible fight instead of accepting the permission they granted to them to be with each other.

It only lasts for a moment. The next they see Adam stumbling down the stairs, heavy-eyed and with a visible limp that gets worse once he’s on the ground.

He wobbles to the kitchen and Behati follows him, intrigued. She finds him chewing a burrito as he stands in front of the island, catching sight of a deep purple love bite half covered by his t-shirt right where his back begins and his neck ends, not quite hidden by the tattoo there.

She bites her lip not to hoot—they made it, they really did.

He lights up as soon as he sees her and she grins at him, walking to him to kiss him hello and taste what he’s eating.

“Missed you,” Adam murmurs, burrowing into her neck with his hands gentle around her waist, as she takes a bite of the cold burrito too because she’s starving.

“Me too, babe,” she whispers back, her heart fluttering in delight as she confirms that letting them be together was the right thing to do.

She hasn’t seen Adam this relaxed in ages, possibly never, and he’s holding her and kissing her the same way he’s been doing since they fell in love.

She has nothing to worry about.

They finish the burrito together and Adam tells her Blake made them—proud and eager like a puppy—and offers more to her, beckoning her to sit on a stool when she says yes.

She watches his limp through the corner of her eyes and grins behind her hand.

***

Miranda and Blake join them as they’re sharing the last burrito.

Adam doesn’t exactly stiffen by her side but he jumps from his seat and scurries out of the room with a cute blush on his cheeks.

Behati laughs at his retreating back, turning to look at Blake who flops on the bench in front of her and seems to be more than half asleep.

“I have a hunch we’re late with our gift,” Miranda gossips with her, grinning.

“What gift?” Blake asks, puzzled.

“You’ll see,” Miranda replies, kissing her husband on the lips and asking him what he’d like to eat.

Behati excuses herself and Adam, since she knows he probably won’t be eating more either, and goes to look for her man.

***

Adam is in the laundry room, folding sheets fresh from the dryer.

He smiles shyly at her when he sees her standing in the doorway.

“I put another load with our clothes,” he informs her, ducking his head.

“Good,” she approves, assessing him.

He looks so tense, her poor baby.

He obviously doesn’t have the slightest clue how to act around Miranda anymore.

She knows that’s why he’s hiding here, knows that’s why he’s getting more than a little hyper.

She hugs him tight, pushing his body against the washing machine as she nips softly at his bottom lip just the way he likes it.

“You’re edgy,” she points out, nuzzling his nose when he all but crumbles against her, breathing into her hair as he holds her right back, “Don’t be. Sweetie, if you want to kiss Blake in front of us you can do it. We’re okay with it, really. We even bought lube to last an apocalypse to prove it.”

“What?” her husband squeaks, jerking to look at her in the eye, “You bought— _what_?”

She giggles, kissing him until he gets loose again against her. “Lube, jumbo size. Sorry if we’re a little late with it.”

It’s not often that Adam blushes bright red but he does that and Behati kisses the warmth on his face, assuring him everything is fine and that they don’t need to pretend nothing happened just because they’re back.

***

It’s not until three days later that Miranda witnesses something that fills her with joy and makes her proud of wanting this arrangement for the four of them despite of how unorthodox it is.

Blake and Adam are up early. There are empty mugs on the table and half of the food lays forgotten on it, the two men too immersed in each other to get around to eating it. They’re kissing ravenously like there’s not  a single thing in their minds except for that and Adam squirms in Blake’s lap, pressing closer to the Country singer’s front when he widens his stance—and that’s all the clue she needs to know he’s hard—and rips a low moan out of Adam.

She grins and goes to fetch Behati quickly, taking her hand as she leads her back to the living room in time to see them kiss for a couple more minutes and watch them lean their foreheads against each other, catching their breaths with dopey smiles on their faces.

They run to hide in the kitchen as their husbands go back upstairs and lock themselves in one of the guestrooms.

One of the huge bottles of lube they gave them isn’t on the coffee table anymore so they whoop quietly in celebration and go to get something to eat.

***

Blake can tell Adam is trying to be quiet as he takes him, biting his lip and breathing harshly through his nose as Blake leaves at least three hickeys on his long neck, trembling as he holds himself up and waits for Adam to adjust to his size.

He can’t believe they’re doing this and that both of their wives are in the house this time but it’s happening—there is just no way he can go on the rest of the day if he doesn’t have Adam again, should’ve probably stopped kissing the breath out of him first thing in the morning if he didn’t want to end up tangled like this with him.

The last couple of days have been so weird, all of them aware his relationship with Adam isn’t platonic anymore despite they both had tacitly agreed there would be no PDA.

Adam arches prettily when he starts moving, his legs spreading impossibly more to allow Blake to nestle between them as his balls slap Adam’s ass lewdly. There’s a pillow in the small of Adam’s back and it makes the angle just right for their hips to meet.

He has to admit lube makes things a lot better—on top of being deliciously tight and hot inside Adam is practically wet now, and he swears to God he’s never gonna get enough of this.

Adam pushes at his shoulder blades, nails almost scratching his skin as he hiccups a breath and finally whines loudly when Blake lets a bit of his weight fall on him and feels Adam’s cock resting hotly against his belly, giving Adam some much needed friction there.

He kisses Adam deeply to help him stay quiet once he loses the battle against pleasure, getting so lost in what they’re doing he seems to forget they’re not alone.

Blake knows he should relent a bit, stop driving in that angle that he knows renders Adam completely useless for anything that isn’t moaning his name between heavy pants, but he wants to listen to Adam almost as much as he wants his cock to be squeezed by the smooth muscles of his asshole and whatever it is they have to face for being so unapologetic with this he’ll deal with later once his brain function isn’t being utterly drained through his dick.

He holds Adam’s hips in a death grip with both hands when his pace begins to falter, manhandling him to meet his thrusts forcefully as his hips try to break some sort of speed limit that keeps escaping him because he still wants more, still grunts in both pleasure and slight frustration as he chases for both of their releases.

He breaks into a sweat, feels the drops gathering on his back and his brow.

He keeps moving, pounding Adam with all his might, and it isn’t until he realizes Adam is honest to God drooling—mouth open in a persistent ‘O’ since he’s constantly crying out now—from one corner of his lips that he truly feels gratified.

Adam climaxes first, clenching beautifully around his cock and making Blake shiver almost violently as he fills him up. He gets goose bumps all over his body, limps heavy and tingly in the best kind of fatigue there is.

He smiles when Adam gasps with it, leaning down to kiss him again while letting go of his hips. He pays no mind to the stickiness between them but he does lick the cooling stream of spit from Adam’s chin, affectionate.

Adam kisses him back sloppily, his arms falling limply from Blake’s back as he squints up at him. He stretches, still with Blake’s dick splitting him in half, and closes his legs tight around Blake’s hips for just a moment as if trying to convince him to stay put just a little longer.

He doesn’t plan moving anytime soon, knows how much that wrecks Adam by now.

He loves it here anyway so it’s a win-win.

“That was…” his slender lover trails off, sighing long against his lips.

“Hmm-mm,” Blake agrees, peppering Adam’s shoulder and collarbone with soft, reverent kisses.

He’s the luckiest man in the world.

***

Miranda is covering her mouth with a hand, pausing in a fit of giggles with Behati as they sit in the kitchen getting more than a hint about what Blake and Adam are up to.

It’s always easy for any noises to make it all through the house in the morning—the dogs are quiet, there is no traffic in miles and all the fans of the house are off.

She’s always known Adam is sexy but the _noises_ he’s making for Blake—suffices to say a lot of people would pay good money to have those on repeat.

“I’d say they’re comfortable with us being around,” she says, closing her legs beneath the table.

Behati bites her lip, flushed but pleased. “Maybe they’ll kiss in front of us if we tell them we heard them.”

Miranda laughs. “Oh, we can try that, we definitely can.”

***

She has a talk with Blake because having it with Adam too doesn’t seem like a good idea, at least not for the moment.

“What kind of tales have you told him about me?” she asks teasingly but serious enough for Blake to know she wants real answers, “He’s terrified of me.”

Blake shrugs, his lips curling in a small smirk. “Can’t blame him, I’m your husband and _I’m_ terrified of you.”

She glares at him in warning and he puts his hands up in a placating gesture.

“I guess he doesn’t want you to think he’s—you know, taking me away from you or something,” her husband drawls, “I swear I haven’t told him anything, honey, Hell if I know why he’s so jumpy with you—I guess it’s just the weirdness of this whole thing.”

“You’re gonna kiss him in front of me and Behati,” she tells him, her tone non-negotiable, “You’re gonna show him it’s okay to do that. And for God’s sake, Blake, I hope you’re not mentioning me when you’re with him. You’re gonna make him feel like he’s second fiddle and that’s a horrible feeling to have.”

Blake bats his eyes at her, gawking a little. “I didn’t—at least I don’t think—“

“Good,” she cuts in, standing on her tiptoes to cup Blake’s face so he looks straight down at her when she adds, “It’s up to you to make this work, you know that, right? You can have everything you want so don’t mess it up.”

Her husband licks his lips, looking a bit like a deer in the headlights. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”

He looks at her with wonder when she lets him go, stepping into her personal space again and kissing her sweetly until she hums in contentment.

“Thank you,” he whispers, voice tight with emotion. Miranda knows exactly what he’s thanking her for.

She smiles brightly at him and kisses him some more.

***

Blake feels mighty awkward when he stops Adam by the waist as he and Behati are carrying their small luggage to the door.

There’s a car waiting outside to take them to the airport.

Blake and Miranda will have just a little less than a week to be alone before Blake has to fly to Los Angeles too to continue filming the show. His wife will be busy with her own things and Behati will leave for Europe soon, too.

Adam and he will be left to their own devices and the blooming relationship between them that their giving wives allowed them to have. Just thinking about it makes both heat and nerves twist inside of him.

He wants more than anything to be worthy of the love Miranda and Adam feel for him, a love so strong they don’t mind sharing Blake if it is what makes him happy. He still feels a lump in his throat every time he thinks about it.

He wonders if Adam feels the same. He assumes he does.

He leans down, gripping Adam’s slightly stubbly chin with his thumb and index finger so he can slot his lips over his thinner but softer ones. Adam lets out a small, endearing sound in what seems a mixture of surprise and delight, dropping his bag to cling to Blake’s back and kiss him soundly after pushing his tongue inside Blake’s mouth at the first opportunity he has.

Blake was just planning on a chaste, soft kiss as goodbye but kisses Adam right back with gusto. They’ve been sharing short, secret kisses here and there for the last couple of days and nothing else and he’s needed this too, is really freaking glad Adam is the one who saw the chance and took it.

The feeling of the girls’ eyes on them as they make out isn’t as unpleasant as he thought it would be. He all but forgets about it with the starving and skillful way Adam kisses him, pressing him as close to his body as it’s humanly possible as he assaults his mouth hard enough to leave Adam’s lips shiny and rosy red when they finally part.

“Going to miss you like crazy,” he confesses, voice low and deep, peering down at Adam as they lean their foreheads together and pant against their mouths, “Have a safe trip.”

Adam’s breath hitches, his hands framing Blake’s face tenderly for a brief moment. He nods, ducking his head with a coy smile as he takes his bag again.

Behati stretches up to kiss Blake’s cheek, grinning up at him when he stares. “Don’t worry,” she says, “I’ll take care of him.”

Miranda and she hug and they leave after they both bid Miranda goodbye while Behati holds her husband’s hand in her own as if to infuse the front man with the confidence that seems to leak out of him whenever he has to speak to Blake’s wife.

“See, what’s that so hard?” Miranda teases him, laughing when Blake jumps half a mile at her voice.

He’d been staring at the closed door for—Hell, he doesn’t even know. It felt so much longer than a couple of seconds.

He misses Adam already but Miranda does a good job at distracting him from it.

“You’re his too,” Miranda tells him when they’re lying in bed that night, “Make sure he knows that, baby.”

He doesn’t know how he got so lucky.


	4. Chapter 4

Going back to prepare for the live play offs feels amazing. Adam is pumped up to work with his team and take another shot at beating Blake who only seems to get better—and luckier, if you ask Adam—at this.

He bumps into Christina while he’s getting his second Starbucks coffee and she laughs at him outright.

“Someone is glowing today,” she comments with a teasing grin, “I take it your wife took good care of you during our break, huh? You guys look so cute together, I’m a little jealous.”

Adam bites his lip, turning a bit pink on the cheeks when their baristas giggle as they make their orders and Christina keeps grinning like a Cheshire cat at him.

She’s not so far off the mark—not far at all, actually, and he still feels guilty for being so excited Blake is coming over tonight to his house.

Behati just left this morning and he’s already eager to jump into Blake’s arms.

Somehow, it makes him feel awful.

***

He doesn’t really try to hold back during lunch. He pulls out his phone and types what everybody on his team wants to eat, leaving with the excuse to buy it.

He uses the same explanation to pop in Blake’s team rehearsal room and beams when his suggestion is accepted, overlooking how the contestants on his lover’s team seem more than a bit starstruck with him as well as dumbfounded.

“What about you, cowboy?” he asks lightly, smirking when he catches Blake not very subtly admiring the length of his legs in the leather pants he’s grown quite fond of wearing even though they’re so tight they’re slightly uncomfortable at times, “Want me to bring you something?”

Blake shakes his head, seemingly amused at having Adam volunteering for something any of their PAs could do. “Nah,” he drawls, “Just bring your ass back here and your team’s too, so we can all eat together, will you?”

Adam perks up at the idea. The whole point of doing all this was to get to see Blake for a few moments. He’s ecstatic they’re going to have lunch together now, even if they’re not alone.

“Fraternizing with the enemy, Shelton?” he mocks.

Blake snorts, waving him off so he can get the food faster. “You know you love it.”

***

It’s probably stupid but Adam sits in Blake’s lap while they enjoy their lunch, their teams mingling and smiling and pretty much used to them being all over each other by now. They don’t pay much attention to the both of them, not even when Adam wipes barbecue sauce from the corner of Blake’s mouth and licks it from his thumb later.

“Should’ve known you’d be a cock tease,” Blake whispers in his ear, making Adam giggle in his grasp.

“I’m not a tease if you get to have me tonight,” he retorts in a low voice only to push Blake away from his neck lightly and scrunch his noise in mock disgust, “Gee, dude, handsy much? You’re gonna gross the kids out, stop.”

“I wonder if you’ll throw up your food if I tickle you hard enough?” Blake asks aloud, “I really feel like hearing you squeak like a girl right now.”

Adam sneaks out of Blake’s reach quickly after he barely pokes at his armpit but gets him to yelp anyway, laughing harder when Blake laughs loudly along with their singers.

“You play dirty!” he complains, sauntering away as he beckons his team to follow him, “I don’t wanna see your stupid dimply face for a while.”

Blake just keeps laughing at him and even though he sounds like fucking Santa Claus, Adam can’t help but smile.

Seeing him so happy makes Adam feel like the king of the world.

***

They’re almost done for the day when Adam feels Blake’s arms around him as he turns around one particularly dark corner of the studio just beside the unoccupied stage.

He lets Blake manhandle him behind a thick beam and bends his neck back to give Blake more room to run his lips on his skin, shivering and biting back moans when the older man starts to lick and suck there.

“Blake,” he pants, “Someone could—“

Blake outlines his jaw with moist lips, sucking just below his chin and scratching his freshly shaved skin with his scruff.

When he parts his lips to moan, completely at Blake’s mercy, his lover sticks two of his big fingers inside and prods Adam’s mouth with them as if he were stretching him open instead of simply getting spit over his fingers.

“Those goddamn pants,” he grunts, shoving a knee between Adam’s already spread legs to simultaneously start humping his thigh and tease his own length to hardness so quickly Adam’s head spins and he has to hold on to Blake’s shoulders, latching on to the fingers in his mouth not to moan, “I hate them so much.”

He can’t for the life of him form a smart retort to that so he finds Blake’s lips instead and kisses him silent, letting go of his fingers with a wet pop.

He forgets everything about where they are and why they shouldn’t be doing this from the moment Blake’s tongue brushes his, planting his feet firmer on the ground when his lover almost gets him off his feet with the force of his rutting against Adam’s leg.

They only stop when Blake’s hand miraculously sneaks into his leather pants, the fingers dripping with Adam’s spit rubbing their way between his cheeks to wet his entrance teasingly and threatening to make Adam’s knees buckle.

Blake sounds wild and breathless when he speaks again, his hips coming to a halt even though Adam is still uncomfortable hard inside his clothes. “You’d let me have you right here, wouldn’t you, Adam? Fuck, the way you just give yourself to me drives me crazy.”

Adam blinks through the haze of his arousal, palming with clumsy fingers between Blake’s long legs and feeling more than a bit smug when he finds it damp. Blake’s fingers are still in his pants, just resting in the cleft of his ass right over his hole and he sighs shakily, looking furtively around as he leans his head on Blake’s shoulder.

There’s no one around but there’s no way he can tell if there was at some point.

“You owe me one,” Adam teases, smoothing Blake’s clothes the best he can as he takes a step back, “You got to come in your pants like a teenager but look what you did to me.”

“Hmm,” Blake agrees, a glint in his eyes that makes Adam’s gut grow even hotter, “I think I know how to fix that.”

There’s a bathroom in the next hall. Blake locks them in a stall and gets on his knees, unzipping Adam and finishing him with his mouth around him and his fingers tugging lightly at the creased skin around his entrance.

Adam has to bite his arm not to scream, his other hand making a mess of Blake’s hair as he fucks his mouth in thrilled but soundless abandon.

Working together is definitely going to be trickier than they thought.

***

“ _Adam!_ ” Behati exclaims over Skype, slightly scandalized but laughing, “ _You can’t go around acting like that, what if someone had seen you?_ ”

Adam makes a face, scowling at Bones who keeps asking for dogs’ biscuits even though he already gave him two in a row.

Apparently even his dog knows he’s forgotten how to say no, guilty as fuck but too drunk on happiness to do much about it.

“I know, I know,” he sighs, drinking in the sight of his beautiful and mellow wife, “God, I’m such an idiot, why did you marry me again?”

“ _Your money, duh_ ,” she jokes, grinning and knowing perfectly well she makes way much more money than him, “ _Your tongue too._ ”

He bursts out laughing, staring at her in mock-offense. “Hey, my dick is hurt, babe.”

“ _Tell him I’ll make it up to him when I get back._ ”

She brushes her bangs off her forehead a bit, looking fondly at him as Adam smiles at her.

She seems to come to some sort of conclusion quickly, making Adam blink while she purses her lips in consideration.

“ _You two should go somewhere when the show is over_ ,” she suggests, “ _It sounds to me like you need a honeymoon to be able to be around each other without, you know. The trick is going to be figuring out where you can go without anyone knowing what you’re there for._ ”

“Bee,” Adam gasps, amazed, “I—we don’t, I don’t think—“

“ _Uh-huh,_ ” she cuts in, wielding a finger at him to shut him up, “ _You know I’m right, sweetie. It’s okay, how many times do I need to say it for you to believe me? It’s only fair you get to have that with Blake, we had that too after all._ ”

“But you’re my wife, baby,” Adam remarks, “You should be more important and you are. We don’t need that, really, we’re just—I don’t know, it’s a lot of sexual tension to work through I guess.”

She sighs but smiles slightly at him. “ _Okay. Don’t forget to call me tomorrow to let me know where on set you almost fucked then. I love you._ ”

She sticks her tongue out to him while Adam sputters to reply.

***

Adam decides they’re banned from being alone together at work.

Like, completely.

Blake has no sense of decorum—or maybe he’s just crazy about Adam enough to lose the little he had to begin with and it’s a little ridiculous how much Adam likes that idea.

Either way, they can’t be trusted to keep their hands off each other so Adam glues himself to Pharrell’s side like a limpet whenever he’s not in rehearsals and smirks over his shoulder at the frustrated expression on his lover’s face whenever he tries to stir Adam away only to be brushed off.

He does take pity on the older man after three days of not having a minute for each other, surprising him in his trailer and locking the door right behind him.

Blake swallows the bite of the big burger that looks small in his hands and forgets about lunch so quickly Adam preens, leaving the food aside to stare at the front man with a different kind of hunger.

“You can do both, dickhead,” he states playfully, dropping to his knees right between the Country singer’s denim clad legs, his fingers already on the zipper because they don’t exactly have time for foreplay, “Wouldn’t want you to go hungry for the rest of the day.”

“Holy shit, Adam, are you—“ Blake takes a deep breath only to let it all out in a loud rush as Adam starts licking him to hardness, taking the time to mouth the base of his dick meticulously with his eyes set on Blake’s taut expression, “You really going to— _here_? I thought—“

He sucks the tip teasingly, raising an eyebrow as he lets go of it to speak but remains close enough to make the shaft twitch with his warm breath. “Just don’t grab my hair, okay, or make up is going to have my head.”

“Fuck, alright,” Blake grants, spreading his legs to give Adam more room and cant his hips up in eagerness, “I can do that, I can.”

Adam rolls Blake’s sack gently between his thumb and middle finger, his tongue outlining the thick vein on the underside of his lover’s big cock. He plays a bit with the foreskin in his fist next, just enough to get him half-hard, and then he lets his jaw go slack and swallows around the length in his mouth as he takes it in deep.

Blake grips the crook of his neck with both hands instead of his nape, groaning lowly and practically vibrating under Adam’s attention, his back straining and bending with the need to thrust.

Adam keeps sucking him off and flicking his tongue around the head each time he has to pull off a bit to tease the most sensitive parts of Blake’s dick until his chin is drenched in saliva, only then moving his own hands from his knees to Blake’s thighs to squeeze tight in both warning and permission.

He looks up at him, keening with his mouth bursting-full and eyes watering from the relentless nudging in the back of his throat, almost coming in his pants too when Blake grips his wrist to prevent Adam from stroking himself in time with Blake’s shallow but steady thrusts.

“Tonight,” he grunts like both litany and promise, “I’m gonna make you come so hard, Adam, so hard you’re gonna pass out from it, I swear.”

Adam’s jaw is only mildly sore when Blake caresses his chin and coaxes his mouth to release him, fondling himself and coming all over his hand in the next second as Adam watches him groaning in faltering breaths, eyes rolling to the back of his head and whole body shivering with the force of his orgasm.

He pouts, panting and red from exertion but blushing more when he realizes he’s slightly dissatisfied that he didn’t get to feel Blake pulsing inside his mouth.

Blake chuckles, offers the tip of his cock lewdly and slaps Adam’s cheek softly with it after he’s cleaned his spunk with the same napkin he was using for eating which—yeah, gross, but not enough to make the arousal coursing through Adam’s veins and trying to erupt from his every pore go away.

“What?” Blake asks, out of breath, his gorgeous blue eyes glazed over with ecstasy, “We can’t make a mess and you don’t like swallowing, so I thought—“

“You could’ve let me try,” Adam sulks, voice thick, but gets back at him by sucking the head until Blake goes completely soft and spasms with oversensitivity.

He nuzzles Blake’s groin after zipping him back, feeling high and wired in a way that only gets more intoxicating when he has to consciously stop his hips from rutting against the couch.

“I’ll make it worth it, honey,” Blake vows, pulling him off the floor so effortlessly Adam finds himself in his lap in the blink of an eye, “I promise.”

They kiss until Blake seems confident he’s got all the aftertaste of himself off Adam’s tongue. Adam hides under his chin, rubbing his face against Blake’s sweaty neck and giving no fucks about his make-up anymore.

It’s a miracle he’s not rock hard by the time they make it back but he’s a little too crazed even for him during the rest of the schedule for the day. Thankfully his extra energy only seems to help make the live show more fun.

He can’t fucking believe he’s letting Blake _tell_ him when he gets to come now.

He imagines a couple of weeks of nothing but them being together and tumbling in bed doing _this_ among other things and he almost gives into Behati’s idea but stops, chagrined, before he can talk with Blake about it.

Blake is—well, there doesn’t seem to be a word for what they are to each other, even if lover has a nice ring to it. He’s much more than that but there’s one thing Adam knows for sure and that’s how much Blake loves Miranda, so whatever it is they do have can’t be compared to the way the Country star’s eyes light up and how he looks at his wife like she’s an angel gracing the air around her with her presence.

He’s never looked at Adam in that way and he never will and that’s—that’s okay, Adam is more than content and thankful with what they have.

He still wakes up in the middle of the night sometimes, wondering if it’s all been a dream and he’s going to come crashing down to reality only to remember that no, Blake doesn’t love him in _that_ way and that even if he _did_ , they’re both married so there’s no way they can do something about it.

Whether he’s alone or with Blake or Behati pressed to his side, he can’t help being terrified for a moment.

His heart has been split in two and none of it belongs to him anymore.

***

Blake’s lips are warm and nimble as they slide on his and his hands are utterly familiar with every inch of Adam’s body by now, enough that he doesn’t even need to look to know where to touch to turn Adam into a gasping mess of want, making his legs shake and heat coil and uncoil in his belly.

He makes them take a shower first, placing Adam in front of the spray and parting Adam’s cheeks with both hands spread on his buttocks, fingertips digging in a firm and commanding caress as the water runs down the cleft of his ass.

Adam is convinced shower sex is what Blake has in mind and he’s totally on board with the idea, arching his back to press the globe of his cheeks more into his lover’s broad palms and giving playful but hearty nips to Blake’s collarbone.

Blake brushes his lips over his wet hair, sucks the shell of his ear into his mouth as one of his fingers circles Adam’s entrance. Adam inhales deeply, forcing himself to relax, and holds on to Blake’s shoulders tight.

He moans, high-pitched and wanton, the instant he’s breached, the steam and the heat of the water only helping to cloud his mind even more.

“Oh God,” he exclaims in a exhale, his left hand fumbling to stroke Blake’s cock fast and hard so that he’s just as desperate as Adam feels and maybe gives him what he wants sooner, “Give it to me, Blake, please, I’ve wanted this for _hours_ —“

“Shit, Adam, slow down, would you?” Blake moans, his vowels all messed up with his accent, “You make me come now, none of us is gonna have any more fun tonight.”

“But—“ Adam’s mouth clicks shut as he tenses, feeling Blake withdrawing his finger and panicking more than he wants to admit when it takes him a little too long to come back with a second one.

It takes him a couple of minutes to realize they’re coated in soap—Blake is lathering his hands before grabbing his ass and pressing in, twirling and rubbing his fingers in and around his entrance methodically.

Adam blinks water off his eyes, shaking his head slightly from the weight of it cascading down on him, and yeah—Blake is still washing him in one of the most intimate ways there is when he’s done.

He starts to breathe harshly, shallow and anxious, wondering if he’s not been doing a good enough job at it on his own, if he’s accidentally grossed out his lover somehow.

“Blake?” he asks, strained, “Why—“

“Shhh,” the taller man shushes him, his mouth gentle as it shapes his hairline, “You trust me, right?” he nods, snuggling closer to the bigger body in front of him that feels hotter than the shower on his back, “Let me do this then. Let me make you feel good, darling.”

He swallows and tries to relax again, weaving his arms around Blake’s waist to resist the onslaught of stimulation and uneasiness he feels as Blake seems immersed in his task.

Blake towels them both dry leisurely, pausing every now and then to kiss the little breath Adam’s managed to control back into a frenzy.

He takes Adam’s hand and walks them to his bed afterward, giving him one last long and heated kiss as his thumbs brush the bit of stubble on Adam’s jaw that makes the lead man’s eyes cross a little as he grips Blake’s arms.

He looks up at him when Blake pushes him gently on the mattress, so enthralled he barely feels the almost uncomfortable tug of pleasure in his crotch.

He feels like he’s coming apart and they haven’t even started yet.

“Hands and knees for me now,” Blake murmurs, hands already helping Adam to move into position, “Nice and spread, sweetheart, that’s it.”

Adams’s cheek is burning when he presses it into the pillow, clutching at it with both hands and telling himself there’s no way Blake is about to do what he thinks he’s going to do, that there’s just no—

He yelps and jolts, eyes and mouth open wide, with the first sweep of Blake’s tongue between his cheeks, only settling back down slightly when Blake’s hands grip and knead his thighs insistently.

He covers his face with a hand as Blake’s licks and little kisses get closer and closer to his hole, crying out in both shock and discomfort at having his lover’s face buried there.

“’is too filthy,” he stutters, so exposed he feels like he’s going to choke if they keep going, “Blake, please, s-stop.”

“If you could relax for me for a minute, baby,” Blake murmurs, his mouth kissing the small of Adam’s back as he relents only to stretch his rim with his thumbs, “You’d love it, I know so, Adam. You’re so goddamn sensitive down here, just look at you.”

He keeps rubbing Adam’s entrance with his fingers as if to emphasize his point and Adam hates his body for melting right into it, muffling a needy moan in the pillow and not really sure why he’s bothering in trying to hide how right Blake is when his hips rock into it and his hole flutters with the promise of being filled and fucked just right.

Before he knows it, he’s fucking himself on one of Blake’s fingers and moaning low in his throat. His lover scratches between his shoulder blades with his stubble, bending to kiss the back of his neck as he keeps asking Adam to let him do it.

Adam can feel him leaking and so hard it must hurt, cock bouncing slightly on his ass as Blake tries to soothe him with more kisses when Adam cranes his neck to look at him.

“You—you’ll fuck me?” he asks, voice utterly wrecked, peering at him through his lashes, “After?”

“Of course,” he drawls with a grin, Adam’s legs spreading just a little wider even though he’s not taking another finger, “I’m no saint. I’m dying to be inside you too.”

Blake looks so excited. Adam decides not to ponder just now if he’s ever going to be able to say no to him.

“Okay,” he concedes, biting his lip, “Do it.”

He takes a deep breath and holds still, which isn’t the same as _relaxing_ exactly but he gets there when Blake pumps his length back to arousal and makes Adam forget about his mouth as his body remembers quite frantically that it’s been denied release for hours on end and his hips lose no time in fucking into Blake’s slick fist after his lover pauses to pour lube onto his hand.

The tip of his tongue on his rim still comes as a shock but once Adam doesn’t flinch, just shivers from the top of his head to the tip of toes and pants, Blake grips the base of his cock for a bit just hard enough to halt his movements and goes to town on him.

Blake’s tongue prods and licks, brazen and eager, and even the stripes of spit Adam can feel dripping from his skin feel great. His mouth is hot and wet and demanding, sucking slightly just behind his balls and lapping at them whenever Adam thinks he’s gotten used to the toe-curling pleasure coursing through him.

He’s pressing back before he can realize what he’s doing, mewling as his chest heaves and his hands scramble to grab the sheets desperately when the tip of Blake’s tongue finally pushes in.

Blake chuckles without pulling out, the sensation that travels up Adam’s spine thanks to it making him arch like a bow.

It’s a big ‘I told you so’ but he doesn’t give a damn about being wrong or right anymore, he just wants more of Blake’s tongue in him and once he gets it he’s lost in a loop of fucking into Blake’s unmoving fist and fucking his face like he’s a girl Blake is getting off eating out.

His orgasm is long and bone-shattering, making him scream and tremble as Blake kisses his way up his back and curls around him, one of his arms pulling Adam’s torso up against his chest.

Blake noses his shoulder and drives right into him, giving Adam no respite whatsoever, bottoms out in one fluid but slow push making the most out of Adam’s loose muscles still quivering after his climax, squeezing him just right if the growl he lets out is anything to go by the second he’s balls deep.

Adam tries to support his weight on the bed, give Blake more leverage to pound into him, but his arms can barely hold and brace him in an unsteady effort, just like his legs are doing.

When Blake uses his free hand to touch where they’re joined, hips slowing down just enough to be able to do it, Adam clenches around his length and sobs because it’s too much too fast but if Blake stops he swears to God he could _die_.

Blake fucks him in a tempo that speeds up in time with the twitching of Adam’s dick already refilling with blood, his big hand resting just where thigh meets groin as if he knew that if he jerks Adam he’d lose it the instant his fingers touched his member.

Adam has lost track of everything except them fitting together, is barely holding on with his eyes almost closed and stuttering more moans than breaths when Blake sucks a mark behind his ear and pants, husky, “You close, baby?”

He tilts his head enough to glance at Blake and he hopes the way his eyes roll to the back of his head and he runs out of air to cry out are answer enough.

He clamps down instinctively around Blake and that’s it—his lover fills him up, teeth grazing the back of his neck as he groans and calls out for him so wholeheartedly that Adam comes all over the sheets again, his cock dangling between his legs at the same time his arms finally give out, his eyes open wide as he feels himself blacking out even though everything around him seems exceedingly bright.

He’s still in Blake’s hold; he’s sated and safe, Blake doesn't let him fall down.

He can’t do a thing to hold on to consciousness.

***

It’s two in the morning when he wakes up to far away voices and an empty bed.

He rolls onto his back, blinking in the dark groggily as he waits for Blake to get back. They’re in his rental house so it’s not so unlikely that someone has come over to visit him even at this hour.

They haven’t talked about what to do in this sort of situation but he’s been fucked too well to be able to think about that right now, so he’ll just hide here and wait.

He’s hugging Blake’s pillow when his cowboy finally comes back to the room and looks at him sheepishly.

“Hmm?” Adam asks, a bit nonsensically, but he’s not really ready to form words just yet.

“Miranda is here,” Blake replies and fuck, that wakes Adam up no problem, “Do you mind if I sleep with her tonight? She’s only in town for a couple of days.”

Adam wants to laugh—tries to, but only manages a weak snort. “Dude,” he breathes out, kicking the covers off his body to begin fishing for his clothes, ignoring how sore and filthy he feels as Blake's come oozes out of him in slow tickling stripes, “She’s your wife. Of course you can.”

“You can stay the night, Adam,” Blake blinks at him, apparently puzzled as Adam hops from one place to the other and gets dressed in a daze, “You don’t have to leave. Hell, you didn’t even bring your car.”

He shakes his head, ready to go except for his shoes because he still can’t find the left one, and bats his phone in Blake’s face with the Uber app open on it.

“You sure you’re gonna be alright?” Blake asks, brow furrowing, “It’s late and well, it’s not like she doesn’t know. Actually she wanted me to sleep here with you but I—“

Adam sets his jaw as he’s looking under the bed for his missing sneaker, glad Blake can’t see his face.

He feels like Blake just kicked him in the stomach.

“Yeah,” he cuts in before he has to hear Blake telling him what he already knows; that he’d rather be with Miranda, that he’s always going to come second to her, “Yeah, it’s fine, man. Don’t sweat it.”

Miranda apologizes as if she was the one intruding, insisting for him to stay, and that’s about as much as Adam’s nerves can take.

He kisses Blake chastely on the lips, hating how breaking apart even for a few hours seems to physically _hurt_ , and makes himself peck Miranda on the cheek because being polite and nice to her is the very least he can do.

He’s trembling by the time he makes it home.

He’s still cold after he takes a shower.

He falls back asleep somewhere around five, after he finally gives in and sheds a few tears.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so fucking long, guys. I don't even know. Hopefully you won't get bored.
> 
> Smooches and cookies to Shell for betaing this for me.

The moment his alarm rings he knows he’s still in this stupid fucking funk that he can’t seem to shake off since leaving Blake’s house.

He blinks up at the ceiling after checking his phone, finding zero texts or calls from his lover. It stirs something inside his chest, something awful that makes him wonder if he’s done something wrong—if maybe he wasn’t good enough in bed and disappointed Blake somehow.

That’s until he remembers Blake is with Miranda now, probably following her around like a giant love sick puppy and smiling at her with his dimples, smooching her cheeks and holding her to his broad chest the same way he does with him.

He knows he doesn’t have any right to feel jealous. He’s not even sure that’s what he’s feeling—he’s never resented Miranda for her place in Blake’s heart, not even when being with Blake was a fantasy Adam didn’t allow himself to ponder on ever.

Mostly he just wishes he could be in Blake’s arms right now, hearing his drawl and feeling his nose nuzzling his face first thing in the morning like he’s quickly grown used to.

He’s nothing but a spoiled mistress, that’s exactly what he is, and his stomach rebels against the notion hard enough to make him gag over the side of the bed. He dry heaves for what feels like a small eternity, his brain reminding him he needs to get up if he wants time for his morning routine.

Instead of doing that, he drops back down on the mattress and checks his phone again. His thumb on the screen seems to suck the little energy he has today and he does it for nothing—Blake still hasn’t sent him anything, not even one of his trademark lousy jokes or taunts after winning the show more times than everyone else combined.

He spends the time he should be using for yoga with his eyes tightly shut, trying and failing to quell the crippling fear that Blake is already getting tired of him.

Maybe, he thinks, the rim job he gave Adam was the last thing Blake wanted to do. Maybe he’s already fucked his feelings for Adam out of his system and he doesn’t know how to let down Adam easy so he called Miranda to save the two of them from the awkward situation. Maybe—

He breathes, deep and slow but loud and ragged, his heart thumping like he’s running a marathon. Panic whistles in his ears and he finally gives up trying to snap out of it on his own. He wants this horrible anxiety to go the fuck _away_ but the more he thinks about Blake, the more he feels like he’s losing it, like his chest is about to implode.

Blake said—he said he _loves_ Adam, didn’t he? But in this moment he can’t think about _why_ , why would he feel that way about him? Why would he love Adam when he’s apparently not even that good at fucking and he’s downright obnoxious when he wants to be (and sometimes when he doesn’t, too), when they’ve spent more time apart than ever since they started sleeping together and he—he, well, fuck, he obviously doesn’t miss Adam at all.

He feels like he’s been scraped raw on the inside, an ache throbbing out of the reach of his fingers to soothe and threatening to drive him mad.

He’s so in over his head. Why did he think he could do this? Why did he think this could turn out okay for him? Why—

He huffs, consciously stopping his train of thought. He needs to go to work. His team needs him. He doesn’t have any time to mope like an emo fifteen year-old, not right now.

He calls Behati and she picks up on the second ring.

“ _Baby!_ ” she greets, cheerful, “ _Good morning!_ ”

“Hey,” he bites his lip, his chin already trembling. His voice comes out small and raspy and he hopes his wife thinks it’s due to sleep, “What’s up, Bee? How’s everything going?”

What he really wants to tell her is that he’s not good at sharing, not good at all, but why should that matter? Blake probably doesn’t even want him anymore and shit, there it goes, the first tear of the day that he wipes quickly.

He pretends it didn’t happen as he listens absently to Behati telling him about the photoshoot she’s working on.

Just listening to her voice helps him. He’s up and about, scowling at himself when he realizes he picked the wrong clothes from his closet and going back to it with the phone pressed close to his ear.

When it’s his turn, he barely says a thing and she pauses, worried. _“Adam, what is it? Are you and your hunk okay?_ ”

He heaves a sigh; a shuddering little sound that he hopes doesn’t carry over the line.

But perhaps it did because when he asks Behati to sing a bit for him instead of answering she doesn’t even question it; just whispers _okay_ and croons a few verses of Hey Jude softly in his ear.

Her voice is beautiful, just like everything about her is, and Adam has no fucking clue how her heart can take it—knowing he’s with someone else whenever she’s out of town now and managing to feel happy for him all the same. It blows his mind.

He wipes his face when she goes quiet, opening the faucet in the shower and stripping as he keeps the phone to his ear with his shoulder.

 _I fucked up_ , he almost says, _I fucking blew it, oh my God, Blake doesn’t want me anymore. I don’t know what I did but I suck, I suck so bad, I’m the fucking worst,  I—_

“ _You know how much I love you, right?_ ” the super model says, so sweetly more tears stream down his cheeks, “ _That you’re the most wonderful guy I’ve ever met?_ ”

“I love you too,” Adam whispers, biting back sobs, his voice a mess, “So much. I’m sorry I’m being so stupid. I wish I could be better for you.”

“ _Don’t say that_ ,” Behati shushes him, “ _Do you see the ring on your finger?_ ” he huffs out a strained _yes_ and she goes on and he shouldn’t hear the smile in her voice but he does. If he closes his eyes he can see her too and it eases the weight around his lungs and heart, “ _That means you’re exactly what I want. You don’t need to be better, babe, you just need to be you. Got it?_ ”

“Yeah,” Adam smiles slightly, can’t believe she’s not mad at him for intruding on her busy day with some sort of nervous breakdown he can’t even explain because he should’ve known things were going to be this way—he _knew_ Miranda would always come first so there’s really no reason for him to be crying like a girl right now.

He has to hurry to make it on time but talking with Behati is the one thing that carries him through the morning.

He touches his wedding ring every time he can’t remember the notes he had after listening to his artists, every time he can’t decide where to go with the song.

He still feels shame prickling under his skin and it gets suffocating with every hour that passes without a word from Blake.

He’d make do with a simple _hey, wanna have lunch_ by the time they take a break but it doesn’t come so he smokes instead of eating and brushes off concerned questions from the staff and his team.

“Why don’t you go home early, buddy?” Carson offers at some point around five, his hand warm and gentle on Adam’s back, “Rest up and come back refreshed tomorrow.”

Adam swallows, eyes darting to the floor and then to the door as if Blake could just appear there because he wants him to.

He wants his lover’s hands on him, needs him so much it hurts to be ignored like this.

Just what the fuck is he going to do if Blake doesn’t want him anymore, if this was nothing but a fling for him?

He feels like he’s not even here, like half of him is with Blake even though he doesn’t know it and the other half with his sweet caring wife who does everything in her power and more to keep him happy.

And yet here he is feeling like shit.

He’s the worst, for real.

“I know I’ve been slow and dumb today, I’m sorry,” he mumbles, grabbing a guitar and sitting back with it in his lap to make sure Carson’s intervention isn’t successful and he doesn’t end up back home sulking and affecting his artists’ chances at winning this thing just because he’s an idiot, “But I need to stay and work with my team.”

“You don’t need to apologize, Adam,” Carson assures him, his eyes sympathetic as they scan the tears prickling at Adam’s eyes that he refuses to shed and the rosy flush of shame on his cheeks, “You’re probably coming down with something. Take it easy, okay?”

Adam struggles but makes it through the day.

***

Blake has been biting his lip and fiddling with his phone for half an hour when Miranda takes it from his hand.

She flicks her finger on the screen and tosses it back to him with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, of course he can come to dinner,” she states, reading his thoughts and making him squirm a little as he raises his cellphone to his ear, “You don’t need to ask me, honey, you should know better by now.”

Adam picks up on the third ring so Blake doesn’t have time to reply.

“Hey, little guy,” he greets, probably too casual. Jesus, he feels like he’s sixteen again and afraid no girl will want to make out with him if he makes the tiniest mistake because none of them can reach his mouth, “You wanna come over? I didn’t see you all day and I miss you.”

There’s a beat before the front man speaks, uncharacteristically hesitant. “ _You do?_ ”

“Of course I do!” Blake answers, adamant, “Now are you coming or not? I’m starving, not sure I can wait for your skinny ass to get here so we can eat.”

“ _I—sure, yeah, I’m going. Be there in twenty._ ”

Blake groans, overdramatic, and hangs up with a satisfied grin once he gets Adam to chuckle at his antics.

***

Adam doesn’t look surprised to see Miranda still around but he does gasp into the close-mouthed kiss Blake gives him as hello, hands coming up to rest shyly against his chest even as the rest of his body all but _melts_ into him.

Blake’s pretty sure he’s bearing most of his weight—not that Adam is heavy at all—but he doesn’t complain and keeps his arms firmly around Adam’s waist, craning his neck to nuzzle against Adam’s hair and breathe him in.

Gosh, he missed him so much he kinda feels he should be embarrassed—it’s been less than a day!—but he can’t be bothered to.

He’s just so damn _happy_ , the bubbly feeling in his stomach only growing when Adam noses his neck and stays flushed against him.

Miranda has the meal warm and waiting for them on the kitchen table—she knows it’s less fancy there and that Blake likes it better than the huge dining table he hardly uses in this place.

He presses a kiss to her temple and sits between them at the head of the table, moaning in delight at her cooking and enjoying how her eyes light up with the compliment.

Adam picks at the food, not really eating much of anything, and barely talks with them no matter how much Blake jokes and teases him about his team.

Blake isn’t sure whether it’s the light or not but his lover looks pale and withdrawn and he doesn’t like that at all.

He puts down his fork and reaches for Adam’s hand half-way through dinner.

“You on a crazy diet I don’t know about?” he asks, joking. He knows neither Adam or Behati need to do that to be the pair of lean beautiful people that they are. Then he tacks on, eyes fixed on the rock star intently, “You okay, Adam?”

Adam squeezes his hand for a brief instant, lowering his gaze to probably try hiding how his lovely hazel eyes are brimming with tears but Blake catches it anyway and his chest seizes with concern.

“Can I—Can I lie down for a bit?” his lover asks, faltering, “I’ll—I’ll leave as soon as I can.”

“No need for that,” Blake responds firmly, standing up in a rush to grip Adam’s arms when he almost falls over, “Hey now, easy. Let me help you.”

Adam winces, still won’t look at him proper. “Sorry.”

Blake exchanges a look with his wife—she looks about as alarmed as he feels and follows them quietly as Blake takes Adam to his room and tucks him in, staying to knead Adam’s scalp soothingly to ease whatever pain his rock star might be feeling.

Adam leans into his touch like he’s famished for it, a long shuddering sigh that hangs in the air, heavy and saddening like a sob rushing out of his lips when Blake leans down to kiss his forehead and murmur sweet nothings to him, his other hand a steady weight on Adam’s side, until his breath evens out.

He’s nuzzling Adam’s cheek, thinking they should be calling a doctor, when he feels Miranda stepping closer, both of her hands on his shoulders as he keeps watching the younger man with his heartstrings tugging painfully inside his ribs.

“We need to talk,” she whispers, “Outside.”

He closes the door softly behind them and blinks at her. He’s so worried about Adam that the possibility of being in trouble doesn’t even register, at least not until she frowns at him and punches him on the arm harshly.

“Ow!” he complains, keeping his tone down even though she has a mean hook, “What was that for?”

“How could you let him drop like that?” she inquires, accusing, “You’re supposed to take care of him, what kind of Dom are you?”

Blake bristles but deflates fairly quickly since he doesn’t understand a damn thing of what his wife is hissing at him.

“Drop?” he repeats, brow furrowed in confusion, “What do you mean?”

Miranda keeps glaring at him, nonplussed. “You’ve never seen a sub drop before?”

“Could you stop speaking in code?” he grouses, gesturing with his hands because Miranda isn’t making a lick of sense to him and he feels this is important, “You wanna chide me, fine, but tell me what the hell I did!”

She calms down visibly and looks up at him, puzzled. “You really don’t understand what I’m saying?”

“Could be Chinese to me for all I know,” he answers, sighing in relief when she takes his hand and guides him to the living room.

She doesn’t let go when they sit beside each other, her thumb rubbing the back of his hand as she assesses him with her eyes.

“BDSM,” she says bluntly, “You’ve heard of it, right?”

“What? Of course I have,” he splutters, “What that’s got to do with anything? I haven’t been spanking or tying Adam up if that’s what you’re saying, that’s not what we do.”

“Didn’t say you were,” she clears up, “But there’s a lot more to it than ropes and rough sex, Blake. It’s about trust mostly, especially when you’re in a committed relationship. I had a boyfriend a few years back. He liked me to take over the reins in the bedroom, to give up that control to me, and I enjoyed it too. I was his Domme for long enough to see him drop a few times but never as bad as Adam.”

Blake tries his damnedest to absorb all the information Miranda is throwing at him but he still shakes his head and squeezes her arm to get her to slow down.

In any other situation, he’d be asking his wife to tell him all about it, imagining her whipping some poor son of a bitch in high heels and leather.

Right now, the only thing he feels is panic.

Did he really hurt Adam without realizing?

“If you’re calling the shots and Adam trusts you so much he just lets go, then you’re his Dom, honey, there’s no way around it,” Miranda states, “And you need to take care of him after a scene or this will happen every time and it’ll eventually scar him emotionally even if you don’t roughhouse for it to be noticeable on his body.”

Blake rubs his face, bile rising in his throat at the mere idea of doing anything like that to Adam. “But I just, I don’t get it, ‘Ran. What’s a sub drop? How can I fix it?”

Miranda sighs, squeezing his hand as if to infuse him with strength and he’s grateful for it because he needs it.

Thank God he has her.

He can’t believe he turned Adam—strong, lively, unrepentant Adam—into a quiet trembling little thing.

Knowing he has that kind of power over him scares the living shit out of him but he’s so head over heels for Adam not even that can get him to run away from what they’ve just begun to discover together.

“They get depressed, Blake. The endorphins high they get runs out and they drop, you understand? Without contact from the Dom, a Sub can feel they didn’t do good, that their Dom is disappointed and that they’re not good enough for him. It can get real bad, especially when the Sub has intense feelings for the Dom like Adam does for you. Matthew, my ex, he told me some of his previous Dommes let him drop so bad he thought about killing himself.”

Blake takes a deep breath, standing up suddenly to pace around the room.

He wants to go back to Adam right away but he needs to understand more first and that’s driving him crazy.

“Did you call Adam today?” his wife asks softly, “Text him? That usually helps when you can’t comfort your Sub physically.”

He stops dead in his tracks, turning to look at her with a grimace. “Today? No, Gosh darn it, we were so busy. I didn’t even see him. I made it worse, didn’t I? I fucked up.”

“You didn’t know,” she tells him, so understanding he wants to kiss her, patting the spot beside her with a look that lets him know loud and clear he’s to sit his ass there and don’t move until she’s done explaining this to him, “Now c’mere and listen to me.”

He goes back to her side, waiting with bated breath for her next words.

She takes his hand in both of hers, rubbing it lightly with her fingertips as she looks down at their fingers.

“When we met, I was surprised you weren’t a Dom, to be honest. I kept waiting for you to come clean to me about that side of you but all that happened were little things here and there when we were in bed that left me wondering but unsure how to ask. With Matthew I got used to leading and I liked it so I didn’t want to breach a subject that could mean trouble for us at first and then I just forgot about it. It’s not something I really need, I like our sex life as it is.”

Blake smiles, both in relief and satisfaction. Miranda scares the Hell out of him sometimes, he certainly doesn’t need her towering over him as he’s tied up to their bedposts wearing a blindfold and nothing else.

“That’s great to know, honey,” he drawls, meaning it, leaning to peck her on the cheek and enjoying how she perks up with a bit of fire in her eyes. He knows she’s practically reading his mind, “I love it too.”

“Looks like I wasn’t wrong after all,” she remarks, sass in both her tone and her eyebrows, “You are a Dom. You just needed the right partner to discover it.”

There’s absolutely no bile in her statement, her eyes soft and warm just like they always are on him, and he can’t help how his jaw goes a bit slack with amazement.

If the roles were reversed, he’s willing to bet he’d be green with envy.

“What was different about it this time? Were you particularly rough, did you have time to hold him afterwards?” she asks and he sputters, suddenly very uncomfortable.

It’s one thing to have his wife’s approval to have a relationship with Adam and another thing entirely to discuss what he does with his lover in bed.

She rolls her eyes at him, “For crying out loud, Blake. I don’t want to pry, I’m just trying to help and if you don’t tell me at least a few things, I won’t know how to do that. So spill already, don’t be a child.”

Blake scratches the back of his neck, wracking his brain for every detail that could possibly be of use even if it’s horribly embarrassing and private.

“Well, huh,” he begins, hesitant and sweating with nerves, “I guess all the other times we cuddled it out before he dropped, I don’t know. We usually stay in bed for a while once we’re—once we’re done. I run baths for us when we have time too, like back at our ranch, and wash the two of us in the shower at least if we’re in a hurry. But last night he got up and left just like that, didn’t give me time to do any of that and we fell asleep right after—you know—so no cuddles and no bath, that was different. And—Gosh, we usually text all day too but today I was swamped and he didn’t send me a damn thing, not even an emoji so I didn’t realize.”

She narrows her eyes, purses her lips in thought. “I see. And how does he react to that, when you’re taking care of him? Are you sure this is his first drop, you’ve never left him alone after playing before?”

“How does he—what—uh,” Blake stutters, groaning in discomfort but manning up and being completely honest with her, “I don’t know, he likes it. I like it too. He gets all pliant and quiet and meek, it’s—it’s beautiful, makes me feel so goddamn _good_. I’m never happy unless I get him bleary-eyed and noisy, y’know, when we’re—when we’re at it. Is that normal? But huh, yeah, I’m sure. Today was the first day we weren’t together ever since I came back for the show.”

Miranda outright laughs at him, doesn’t blush one bit even though he’s got blotches all over his face and neck.

“Yes, yes it is,” she soothes with a small smile, “But baby, you really need to talk with him. You need to reassure him and praise him often and you need to agree on a safe word too. Subs can feel like they’re being used very easily when you’re not exclusive, even if the aftercare is good. I’m your wife and you just picked me over him after dominating him, how would you feel if you were in his shoes? It’s no wonder he’s dropping so hard.”

“A safe word?” he scowls, even though he’s hunched in guilt because he knows she’s right and it’d look pretty bad even without the whole BDSM shebang to make it worse, “Isn’t that what ‘no’ and ‘stop’ are for? We don’t need that.”

“Don’t be a lousy Dom, honey,” she scolds, “Or are you going to tell me you don’t keep going when Adam says that?”

He bites his lip, avoiding her gaze. “You’ve been eavesdropping on us or something?”

She laughs again. “I don’t need to. It’s just amateur behavior, Blake, sorry to disappoint. Your boy is quite loud though, so maybe I’ve heard a few things.”

He gapes at her. “Maybe?”

“Maybe,” she repeats, growing serious all of a sudden as she grips his knee, “Listen, Subs usually have a hard time asking for things even if they need them badly. You have to make sure you’re giving Adam what he needs. You can ask him if you’re not sure, that’s what caring good Doms do. And if he says his safe word, you have to stop whatever you’re doing and it’s off the table until you talk about it or even for good. That’s how you show Adam you care, respecting his limits, you get it? It’s a spoken contract of sorts. Some people like to write it down too but I don’t peg you boys for the type,” she gets playful again, “Unless you’re into pointy and bloody things and forgot to mention that to me.”

He shakes his head hastily, quite bewildered with all of it.

He’d argue against Miranda’s take on him and Adam but he does remember every little aspect of their last time and yeah; he was controlling, relentless in what he wanted, not to mention he made Adam wait half the day for his own release after giving Blake a world-class blowjob in his trailer.

He kisses her good night once she’s done explaining a couple more things to him and goes back to Adam’s side just as he’s blinking awake, sitting up with a jolt once he notices where he is.

“Fuck, sorry, I should leave,” he mumbles, reaching under the bed for his shoes and not finding them since Blake left those downstairs, “I’ll get out of your hair now.”

“You’re not going anywhere, darling,” Blake drawls, crouching in front of him to undo his belt and smile at him, “You’re staying right here with me.”

He wants Adam to be comfortable and doesn’t hesitate to strip him to achieve that, pulling a ratty and almost ridiculously oversized t-shirt he never wears anymore over Adam’s head once he’s gotten rid of his jeans and shirt.

It falls down to his mid-thighs and hangs from his shoulders in such a lovely way he makes a mental note to get Adam to wear it again.

He kisses the stunned expression on Adam’s face, lingering on his cheek and lips and feeling deep in his marrow that he’s got this, that he can be good for him.

“But Miranda—“ Adams starts as he’s toeing off his boots.

He hushes him with a small kiss, undressing down to his briefs and undershirt to entwine his legs with Adam’s under the covers and curl around him.

“She understands,” he reminds his gorgeous lover, nuzzling beneath his ear and noticing instantly how Adam relaxes at the attention like a sling without a stone, “I was only trying to be fair last night, sweetheart, since I haven’t seen her in a while. I’m sorry if I made you feel bad.”

Adam doesn’t exactly admit anything, just replies with another apology. “Sorry I screwed up dinner.”

Blake saves the conversation about Adam’s drop for tomorrow, brushing his lips on Adam’s hair until he drifts off to sleep.

It’s not the first time they just nod off together instead of screwing each other’s brains first but it’s not like it happens very often either.

He doesn’t understand how he’s been such a fool—if he’d listened to Miranda and his own instincts instead of trying to balance his time between the two, Adam wouldn’t be hurting right now.

But then again, Miranda wouldn’t have noticed what was going on and explained to him how to take good care of Adam so he decides to count his blessings and closes his eyes, snuggling just a little bit closer to his small lover as he’s sighing against Blake’s neck in his sleep.

***

It’s barely five in the morning when Miranda wakes him up with a kiss on the brow.

He blinks up drowsily at her, opens his mouth to ask in the lowest voice he can if she’s leaving already.

She nods without him having to say a thing, kissing his lips softly before looking pointedly at the man sleeping in his arms and motioning for him to call her if he needs anything.

He feels like a fish out of water as he entertains himself googling stuff about this—kink, fetish, whatever it’s called, it’s sure as Hell not a life style for him as it is for other people—on his phone but knows that he doesn’t want to change how they make love.

It’s overwhelming and instinctual in a way he’s craved for a long time but didn’t know how to look or ask for.

Still, if after talking with Adam he feels too ashamed or uncomfortable to keep going, he’ll give it up.

How they do it isn’t what matters after all; being with Adam is and whatever makes him smile will be fine by Blake.

“Time is it?” Adam slurs around six, his nose wrinkling adorably as he fights to keep his eyes open when his arm reaches out the covers to turn on the lamp.

“Early,” Blake replies simply, “How’re you feeling, darling?”

Adam stares at him for a second too long for him to be back to normal. “Good, yeah.“

“Uh-uh,” he chides him, his hands holding Adam’s waist tighter as he manhandles his lithe body to lie on top of his and pulls him closer to his face, “No bullshit, Adam, not with me.”

“Better,” Adam tries again, his breath hitching as he lies down on Blake’s chest, “Miranda must think I’m awful. I’m really sorry.”

“Nah,” Blake answers lightly, “She thinks you’re cute. Maybe ‘cause you are, who knows.”

Adam huffs out a laugh, muffled against his undershirt, head rising to fix smiling eyes at Blake. “Gee, thanks, that’s so nice of you to say considering you’ve had your tongue up my ass.”

Blake pauses, admiring Adam’s tousled hair and the features of his face; playful but still soft with sleep.

He looks like he’s come straight out of one of his fantasies and Blake feels himself stirring even before his hands travel down Adam’s spine.

They’re so flushed to each other he knows Adam feels it the moment it happens and he knows—he _knows_ they should use the time to talk and he swears he’s going to stop, that he’s just going to kiss Adam one time and tell him everything, tell him that—

Then Adam grinds against him, the crooked smile on his face turning cocky, and taunts him.  “See something you like?”

And he just has to go for it, he can’t help himself.

He flips them over, pinning Adam beneath him with his hands snaking under his t-shirt, making it ride up enough to get a look and a feel of Adam’s flat belly.

“You could say that.”

He outlines the v line of Adam’s hips with firm fingers as they share the first of many heady kisses—their breath isn’t exactly minty fresh but it’s not unpleasant either and Blake can’t for the life of him care with how Adam’s lips and tongue seem to be incredibly familiar already with every brush and sweep that drives him crazy.

Adam tugs at his undershirt roughly and seems to give up on getting rid of it, choosing to spread his palms on Blake’s shoulder blades and dig his fingers into the bit of skin he can get. He breathes out Blake’s name, low and husky, as soon as the older man lets go of his mouth, and opens his legs for them to get closer even though Blake is practically crushing him.

He takes his time even though they don’t have much of it; grazes with wet lips and tongue all over Adam’s middle, smiling against his warm skin when Adam breathes just a little bit louder and quicker with it, anticipation and pleasure leaving his mouth as moans and low curses.

Blake noses the tee higher on Adam’s body, kissing and licking right over the eagle Adam has tattooed on his chest until he feels Adam getting goose bumps from it, one of his hands keeps gripping and kneading Adam’s left thigh as the other holds a bit of his weight on the bed.

He’s divided between leaving his own t-shirt on Adam’s body or lift it off for a couple of minutes that he uses to play with Adam’s nipples, going from one to the other trailing more laps on Adam’s smooth skin. Adam shivers and arches towards him, hands pulling Blake’s hair and scratching his shoulder to probably push him to go faster but he won’t, not this time.

He takes it the tee off Adam’s body because he needs to worship him, feels like he hasn’t done it enough since this whole incredible thing blossomed between them despite he’s wanted to kiss every bit of him for years and just grudgingly dreamed about doing it when he let his guard down.

He’s so hard his boxers are stained on the front, his cock peeking out of its confines at the waistline but he’s determined not to make this about him and ignores it, choosing to pepper Adam’s inner thighs with kisses and leave love bites here and there for both of them to remember just how fucking great it is to be together.

“We’re gonna be late,” Adam complains around a moan as Blake finally mouths him through his underwear, “Fuck, so late. And you call _me_ a tease, you jackass.”

Blake chuckles, patting Adam’s bony hipbone and enjoying how his lover gets the message just with that and raises his hips for Blake to get him nice and bare for him. “Settle down, city boy. It’s not even seven.”

Granted, they’re still going to end up running to set to make it and he’s hoping Adam has left some of his clothes around here somewhere but it’s going to be worth every possible lecture they can get.

He stretches Adam slowly but thoroughly, curling and pressing his fingertips to Adam’s sweet spot enough to have Adam writhing and chasing for his hand every time he draws out. He twists his wrist in every upstroke on Adam’s flushed cock, keeping his eyes trained on his lithe lover to watch him twitching in pleasure as his hands fist the sheets.

He picks the moment Adam’s mouth is open on a cry that goes straight down south to rub his thumb on his slit and groans as if he were coming too when Adam’s ass clenches and unclenches around his fingers because that’s how unbelievably good it feels.

“You have no fucking idea, do you?” he hears himself panting, dropping on his back on the mattress after stroking Adam through his release with his own cock standing rock hard and tall between his legs, his damp boxers still hanging from one of his ankles, “How hot you are, Jesus, Adam. One day I’ll blow my load just by looking at you, I swear.”

Adam tilts his head on the pillow to look at him, cheeks blushed and skin gleaming with sweat, his hair sticking up a bit with it. His mouth is still parted when he smiles, almost coyly, his eyes half-lidded as he looks from his face to his dick and licks his lips like he’s actually starved for it.

“Can I?” Adam asks him before moving a single muscle and fuck, _fuck_ , it hits Blake they should be talking instead of—well.

He nods gracelessly and that’s all Adam needs to straddle his hips, grip him with a hand to guide the tip of his cock to his entrance already slippery with lube, and press down until an inch goes right in.

Blake paws for the bottle of lube, hitting the dispenser so many times in a row his hand is dripping by the time he closes it around his length. Some gets on the beddings too but he barely notices it, settling back down to relish how Adam squeezes him every time he takes him a little bit farther inside.

“Yeah,” Adam approves, still making pretty noises for him despite he’s soft and his thighs are taut with the effort of keeping himself in place.

Blake takes the blunt of it when he’s all the way in, bending his legs at the knee to form a makeshift backrest for Adam to arch against and using his heels to grab momentum as he draws in and out of Adam and his lover’s nimble body follows his lead, hips pushing down against his balls every time Blake drives up and withdrawing every time Blake’s feet fumble to find support for the next thrust.

His hands move Adam up and down his cock too when gripping him and stroking the jut of his hipbones with his thumbs in reverence doesn’t cut it anymore.

He surges up to groan into Adam’s mouth as his orgasm hits him like a freight train, emptying himself inside of him in small thrusts and grinding up against him. He has to lean down and practically curl around him to do it but he doesn’t care, his hands sliding to his buttocks to grope and feel how Adam is stretched wide around him, his hole still clamping down on him dragging his pleasure out so much he swears he loses a bit of brain matter in the process.

He kisses Adam languidly, thankfully and Adam kisses him back, glassy eyes looking up at him with enough wonder to make Blake’s heart skip a beat.

They both walk a bit funny that morning.

He promises himself they’ll talk tonight, after he takes Adam to dinner and possibly drinks half a bottle of Bacardi if he can get away with it which—nope, he knows he won’t, but the thought comforts him anyway.

***

“Dinner,” Adam echoes, raising his eyebrows as Blake holds him by the waist and surreptitiously walks him to his closet so he can change to one of his deliciously tailored suits for it, “You want us to go out. On a date.”

“No one will know it’s a date but us, hun,” he promises and then chuckles, “Well, and the girls, but you get what I’m saying.”

“You know, I don’t think I do,” Adam frowns, his hands tightening on Blake’s back with nerves, “I know you, you’re not subtle. Like at all. People will be able to tell, it’s not a good idea.”

“I’m hurt, Adam, I can behave! Have a little faith, will you?” Blake drawls, “’Sides, people will eat that shit right up. We’re married! They won’t think we’re banging, they’ll think we’re BFF. Or are you forgetting about—how was it called—oh right, _Shevine_?”

Adam makes a face at several things of what Blake just said, if he’s guessing right, and smacks him lightly on the chest. “Don’t ever say that again, ugh.”

“What, Shevine?” Blake gasps in mock-offense, “OMG, baby, it’s our special name! You have to like it or I’m gonna think you don’t love me.”

“Good because I fucking hate you right now,” Adam gripes, grimacing again as he tries to no avail to get free of Blake’s arms, “Fine, fine! We’re going on a date if you stop talking like a creepy old man, alright? You win.”

Blake smiles like a loon, kissing his appreciation to Adam’s lips until he stops scowling and starts giggling, shaking his head at his cheek.

***

They go to a fancy restaurant and Blake has no idea how the paps found out about it but he makes a show of pressing Adam’s smaller frame to his side and lets the vultures take pictures of it so they might be left alone the rest of the night.

He has to charm the hostess to let him in wearing jeans—they are his nicest pair, though, and dark and about as close as he can get to wearing an actual suit—but it’s nothing a picture and an autograph can’t get him.

Adam gives him the stink eye the whole time and he laughs as they’re lead to their table, looking around for only a split second before pulling out the chair for Adam.

His lover rolls his eyes at him but sits down.

“What? Smiles can take you places, Adam.”

“I hope Miranda knows you flirt your way through life,” Adam deadpans.

“Pot, meet kettle,” he wisecracks, shrugging, and leaves it to Adam to order the wine and most of the food since he’s the one who enjoys this sort of thing the most.

He makes a toast for them and gets Adam to blush so he counts their first date as a success.

***

Blake is being ridiculously romantic for reasons Adam doesn’t really get.

After coming back from the restaurant, the Country star fills the hot tub for them and even lights a few candles. He takes his sweet time undressing Adam but clicks his tongue every time Adam tries to do the same for him—claiming he doesn’t want to be distracted—as if it were the first time he’s going to see him naked instead of number fifty as far as Adam knows, and kisses him until Adam’s lips are tingling and he’s a bit lightheaded before leading him into the tub.

He accommodates his bulk behind Adam’s back, radiating more heat than the water rippling around them, and rubs the stress of the day off of Adam’s shoulders with sure hands, fingertips tracing every bone on his upper back once he’s done and some of his tattoos as well.

It’s not often that they’re quiet unless their mouths are otherwise preoccupied but the silence doesn’t bother Adam, at least not for a while. He burrows into Blake’s chest and searches for his hands so he can entwine their fingers together around his middle.

Blake’s frame is relaxed, fitting perfectly around him as Adam’s legs rest between his longer ones, and he can feel his lover is interested in taking this up a notch—or a part of him is, prodding and twitching against Adam’s ass, the rest of his lover apparently content to snuggle with him and nothing else.

It’s a little funny, if he squints at their situation; they’re doing everything backwards. Practically living together first, fucking like it’s going out of style, and then having _dates_.

Or maybe it isn’t funny at all and Adam is just very cynical.

“You know you don’t have to wine and dine me, right?” Adam says, tilting his head back where he’s resting on Blake’s shoulder to look up at him, “We could’ve cooked something and stayed in and then fucked on the couch, I’m just saying.”

Blake curls his hand on the side of Adam’s neck, his thumb caressing the slight stubble on Adam’s jaw as he speaks. “It’s not about that, Adam, don’t be stupid, or are you going to tell me you don’t do this sort of thing with Behati anymore since you’re married and you got her already?”

Adam’s eyes widen at him. “Of course not, but that’s—“

“It’s not different,” Blake sighs, like it should be obvious, “I know we’re men so it could get weird from time to time, but I promise I’m not gonna buy you lingerie or anything like that so we should be fine.”

Adam snorts, turning back around mostly so Blake can’t see how upset he always gets when he thinks about this.

He feels like a douche for loving them both the same when Behati—his _wife_ , the person he’s going to spend the rest of his life with and form a family with—should be more important than Blake and he tells himself she is, tells himself it’s different than what he feels for Blake, but it really isn’t in the end and he doesn’t know how this whole thing is going to work.

He didn’t even know you could fall in love with two people at the same time. Sure, he knew he loved Blake, but he didn’t know just how much until they got together and he found himself giving himself completely to him too.

It’s the cruelest thing he’s ever discovered.

And Blake can say he loves them both all he wants but Adam knows better, has seen it and experienced it and knows his place in Blake’s life.

Apparently that doesn’t mean his heart has to like it.

He’s so stupid.

He splashes water around them to distract himself from his gloomy thoughts. The hardness building indolently between his legs deflates as the lump in his throat grows and suddenly it’s all too much and he can’t take it anymore.

He knows it’s rude as fuck but he steps out of the tub and leaves Blake staring at him, confused and probably hurt too.

He grabs a towel and scarcely dries himself before grabbing his cigarettes from his suit jacket and darting out to the balcony of his bedroom to have a smoke.

***

He’s on his second one when Blake joins him, clad in the loose sweatpants he uses to laze around the house sometimes. There’s water still soaking his furry chest to vanish on his waistline right where he’s softer, and his curls are untamed for once, framing his face in a way that makes it hard to look at.

It’s a look not many people are privy too, he’s aware of that.

He wonders if Miranda loves it too, taking a long and suffocating drag.

Blake frowns at the smell, batting his hand around his face so the smoke doesn’t reach him, and for a moment Adam is convinced he’s going to make him put it out and take him back inside.

It’s not cold, not much, but Adam is still just wrapped in a big towel as he sits cross-legged on the ottoman.

“Adam,” Blake sighs heavily and he sounds worried enough that Adam doesn’t need to look at him to notice it, “We need to talk.”

The cigarette falls from Adam’s fingers to somewhere on the floor. He turns around whip-fast, staring up at the Country singer in pure dread. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“What?” Blake exclaims, “No, what the Hell are you talking about?”

“I don’t know,” Adam mumbles, ducking his head and paying no mind to how the towel drops from his shoulders, “Maybe you changed your mind after Miranda came over, how the fuck should I know?”

Blake kneels beside him, taking his chin between two of his fingers to make Adam look at him.

His eyes are wide and earnest and Adam can’t help thinking it’s fitting he’s naked to have this conversation with him because that’s how he feels when he’s with Blake; vulnerable to the point he has no defenses left.

“I shouldn’t have left you that night, Adam, I’m so sorry,” Blake says, so soft and repentant Adam wants to punch him in the face, “I’m gonna do better from now on, I promise.”

“Do better?” Adam repeats, scoffing, “What, Blake, you’re gonna make yourself miss your wife a little less so staying with me when she’s around isn’t so hard? Don’t be stupid. I know what I signed up for, okay? Just leave me alone for a while, I’ll be fine.”

Blake opens and closes his mouth almost like a fish, no doubt wracking his brain to say something to make it better for Adam but finding nothing that could soften the blow of being second best.

Adam smiles sadly at him, the towel pooling around his waist as he lights another cigarette.

He thinks Blake will go back inside and curl moodily on Adam’s bed to get some sleep until he joins him but the man just stays there, unmoving.

“Do you love Behati more than you love me?” Blake asks at length, doesn’t even wait for a reply before pressing, “Why is it so hard for you to understand I love you just as much as I love Miranda? I know it fucking sucks that I can’t show it like I get to do with her, trust me, I hate that too, but that’s not my fault and I do show it when I can—or at least I thought I did. You show it to me all the time and I should be fucking able to do the same for you.”

Adam is so perplexed it’s Blake who has to put out the butt and shake the ashes from his skin when Adam fails to take it to his lips and lets it burn, forgotten.

He wants to ask how Blake knows he’s in love with him too but maybe he should just be happy his feelings are strong enough that they don’t need to be confessed, that Blake’s been able to feel and see them all along.

“I don’t—I don’t know,” Adam admits, stuttering. He bites his lip when Blake sits beside him and pulls him to his side to kiss his forehead patiently, as if Adam weren’t pretty much throwing a tantrum at him after they had such a great evening together, “You do show me, you do, but I—after I left the other night, I’ve just been waiting for you to tell me you don’t want me anymore. Tonight was amazing, it was, but I kept waiting for it to happen. I’m sorry. I’m an idiot.”

Blake whines low in his throat, like a big dog Adam’s just obliviously kicked, and holds Adam tighter, his other arm finally enveloping him to flush him to his chest.

Adam’s fingertips caress his skin almost timidly, tucking his head under Blake’s chin.

“You’re not an idiot, Adam,” Blake starts, his ribs expanding against Adam’s side as he takes a deep breath, “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. We’ve been having a lot of sex and it’s been—Gosh, it’s been everything I’ve ever wanted and more, but I shouldn’t have been asking and taking so much from you. I don’t know if you’ve been like this with other people, but I certainly haven’t been this demanding with anyone before. You give yourself completely to me and I love it and I didn’t think—I didn’t think it had a name or anything, but it does and I’m—I’m your Dom and your my Sub and—“

“Wow, wow,” Adam stops him, breaking apart so he can look at Blake in the eye, “What? You mean a Fifty Shades of Grey sort of deal, that kind of thing?”

“I’m not sure,” Blake states but he’s awkward and red-faced enough for Adam to start laughing hysterically anyway, squeaking when Blake glowers and tries to look offended only to burst out laughing too when Adam fakes a few awful moans and turns to muffle his giggles into Blake’s neck.

“Damn it, Adam, I’m serious,” Blake drawls, “Listen. I know you didn’t tell me you were feeling like crap yesterday but it has to do with what I’m trying to tell you. I shouldn’t have left you alone. I asked too much out of you and didn’t take care of you. So it was my fault.”

Adam is still wheezing a little into his skin but he tenses and frowns. “I don’t get it.”

Blake sighs but it doesn’t feel like he’s mad, more like he was expecting it. “Can we go back inside? I need my phone to show you some stuff.”

Adam agrees and he puts on a clean pair of boxers while Blake brushes his thumb on the screen of his phone. He selects a couple of websites from a list of bookmarks with shady titles—BDSM wiki, really?—and gives it for Adam to read as he pulls the comforter over them and spoons behind him, kissing his right shoulder as Adam scrolls down the pages.

_Fatigue, decreased energy... feelings of worthlessness, helplessness, pessimism… anxiety, depression… appetite loss…_

It’s not long before Adam tosses the phone to the other side of the king-sized bed and buries his burning face in his pillow.

“I had a sub drop?” he asks, muffled and freaking the fuck out despite Blake’s arms tighten around him, “Oh my God, what the hell!?”

Blake makes shushing, comforting noises as Adam all but screams into the cushions.

He’s not sure how much time passes until he’s able to breathe again, shame still hot in his face and oppressing in his chest but Blake kisses his nape like he doesn’t mind Adam’s hissy fit at all.

“I won’t let it happen again,” Blake vows as soon as Adam turns to the side enough to see him, “I won’t, Adam, I swear to you, but if you—if you want us to try and have—“

“What, normal sex?” Adam cuts in with a scoff, “You’d agree to that? I thought this was what you wanted.”

Blake nuzzles his cheek just like Adam likes, his nose staying close to pour warm breath on his skin, his lips brushing his words against it. “You’re everything I want. You and Miranda,” he says and for the first time, it doesn’t hurt as much to hear that. Adam’s air is knocked out of him but at least it doesn’t burn like it used to, “Whatever you choose, I’ll be okay with it.”

Adam sighs, peers at his lover through his lashes.

He wants to tell him he’ll think about it, that he’s not really sure he understands whatever it is they got themselves into but that’s bullshit.

He loves what they do, loves how crazy Blake seems to be for him, loves how he touches and takes him and makes him come so much he feels like he’s going to die from it.

And he wants to make him happy so really, what is there to think about?

He kisses the corner of Blake’s mouth and smiles softly at him.

“Okay,” he murmurs, “I trust you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for not updating yesterday. Leonard Nimoy passed away and I spent half the day bawling.


	6. Chapter 6

“Velvet,” Adam says out of the blue just to be contrary; Blake’s told him it could wait ‘til morning and he can feel how his lover is more than half-way to dreamland while Adam’s mind keeps racing with options.

“Velvet?” Blake repeats, his deep voice rough with sleep, “I like it.”

Adam chuckles, stretching on Blake’s warm chest just enough to peck his jawline as he looks at him through his lashes, “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“You’re gonna think about me when you hear it,” he drawls, his fingers groping and spreading Adam’s buttocks proprietarily and unashamedly, making Adam shiver, “You’re gonna remember just how much you love having me inside you whenever and wherever you are.”

Adam all but moans, applying just a tiny bit of suction on Blake’s skin, and breathes out, “ _Yes_.”

Blake groans in response, holding Adam tighter and practically making him hump his thigh, guiding his ass with firm hands. “I’m gonna think about you too, Jesus, Adam. Gonna want to screw you whenever I as much as read the damn word.”

The lazy arousal that they built in the bath they shared earlier comes back with a vengeance and Adam doesn’t fight it; he arches against Blake’s frame, rolling his hips in an easy rhythm as he feels the Country star’s length awakening quickly and enjoys how it’s all because of him simply moving lewdly on top of him.

Blake tips his head, parting his lips, and Adam knows instantly what he wants; he crawls a little higher, hips not losing a beat, and seals his mouth with his in a long, searing kiss. Blake’s picked up quite a few tricks from him and his tongue moves wickedly back and forth between them, demanding Adam’s attention in such a way that he barely feels one of his lover’s thick fingers slipping into him but when he does his whole body quakes with want and he lets out the filthiest whimper, so wanton he wants to curl and hide in embarrassment for a second.

The taller man doesn’t even tease him for it. He’s as breathless as Adam when they finally part and his hands grab Adam by the small of his back to guide him up with him as he’s sitting up, his blue eyes awed and blown to hell and zeroing on Adam like the lead man is his whole world.

Knowing he’s made Blake forget about everything else is the best fucking thing he’s ever felt. It’s a thrilling rush that makes his chest burn and his heart ache for more, for longer, for just about every last bit of what Blake could possibly offer.

He goes willingly when Blake manhandles him to lie on his stomach, staying put after he tries to raise his hips but his lover pushes him back down. It’s a weird ass angle—pun intended—to prep him but Adam writhes around his fingers and pushes up for more as much as he can without actually moving from the bed, the lost friction on his dick turning him even more desperate for it.

Blake grips him by the short hairs on the back of his head so he turns enough to look at him and Adam fists the sheets and moans with how much the older man is obviously dying to fuck him too, his face taut with impatience. Adam knows he’s about three quarters ready to take Blake’s girth in but he clamps down on Blake’s fingers, determined, and gives his lover his best set of bedroom eyes to entice him to just put it in him already.

They’re probably going to be too busy for this for a few days—what with the show being three nights a week instead of two—and Adam wants to keep feeling Blake during as much of it as he can.

And he will—fuck, it hurts and he almost regrets it, almost stutters the safe word they’ve just agreed on because he’s stupid and Blake is too big but he grits his teeth and powers through, the extra lube Blake used not really helping but making Adam feel like he’s not being skinned inside at least.

Then Blake pulls his wrists over his head, gripping them easily in one of his hands, and rocks his hips in such a perfect and fast staccato Adam forgets all about the burn and cries over how good it feels to be encased completely by Blake and have him so deep inside he’s not sure if he’s ever going to walk straight again.

Blake is grunting and panting something wild, nipping Adam’s nape whenever he’s on the verge of screaming out for him, and Adam would take it all even if his lover’s teeth wanted to draw blood.

Adam comes in a mess of short spurts, quivering and uncoiling like a spring under his weight, and the warmth of Blake’s spend inside him is almost soothing. His eyelids droop heavily and he knows he wouldn’t be able to move right now even if his life depended on it.

It takes a long while for Blake to move to clean them both and tug the dirty sheets off the mattress. He pulls Adam back onto his chest and kisses his temple, murmuring how good Adam is to him and how amazing he is.

Adam has just about enough strength to press a kiss to Blake’s chest before he’s out like a light.

***

“The what now?” Blake asks, brow furrowing as he stares at Carson.

The host and producer has ushered them into an empty rehearsal room to discuss some kind of internet challenge that’s been going viral just like the ice bucket challenge did that apparently involves a twizzler and getting up close and personal with someone else.

They’ve apparently been challenged on both video and twitter and production has been saving this to surprise the audience and boost their already pretty good ratings.

“You want me to kiss Adam freaking Levine on national television?” Blake states, simpering, “Man, where do I sign? I mean, if it’s for charity I think I can be the bigger man and go for it.”

Carson rolls his eyes and shakes his head, patting Adam’s shoulder in commiseration. He’s spent the last half an hour trying to explain to Blake it’s not about kissing—more like reenacting the spaghetti scene from The Lady and the Tramp sort of thing—but he’s sagely given up on it by now.

“Sorry, buddy, but this is too good to pass up. I trust you to keep him from being too gross.”

Adam smirks crookedly, stifling a laugh. Carson has no idea how _gross_ they’ve already been with one another.

He’s still more than a little sore and there’s a spark in Blake’s baby blues that tells him he’s well aware of it and loving it.

“Don’t I always?” he says, squirming out of Blake’s reach when he starts making kissy noises and vowing they need to ‘rehearse’.

***

Carson is briefing the audience on the challenge and raising awareness for autism as Adam’s slightly shaky hands try and fail to open a bag of twizzlers. He has a feeling he’s going to make a mess and his nape prickles in a way that lets him know at least one of the cameras is focused on them.

He’s perched on Blake’s thigh, one of the older man’s arms holding him by the waist as the Country singer gazes at him all too fondly if you ask Adam but maybe now that they’re together he’s getting a tiny bit paranoid. Maybe that’s just the way Blake’s always stared at him.

“Give it here,” Blake drawls and Adam lets him take the bag because they’re running out of time if the flailing of the assistant behind the camera closer to them is any indication.

Blake opens it no problem even with his stupidly big hands, of course he does, and Adam pouts as he smirks at him in triumph. He looks at the bag pointedly then and Adam gets the message, huffing as he gets his fingertips sticky with one twizzler and raises it to their mouths level.

They take their respective ends between their lips at the same time, eyes locked together, and Adam loses the meager breath he still had when Blake’s right hand leaves his back and settles on his nape instead. His other arm resumes the position around his waist, pulling Adam closer to his chest, and Adam would curse if he could because Carson is going to fucking murder him after this but he can’t help just going with it, his hands resting on Blake’s shoulders as he leans another inch into him.

He’s closing his eyes before he can realize what he’s doing and he has no idea whether he makes it to his half of the twizzler or not before he feels Blake’s lips on his and he sighs through his nose, every bit of tension leaving his body in a rush along with a moan that he hopes to all hell was muffled in the kiss they’re sharing and that Blake deepens the instant Adam opens his mouth.

On live television, in front of pretty much all of America, and if Adam forgot about it for a moment there the roar of the audience around them is enough of a reminder.

He pushes Blake away from him and makes a face, turning his head when his lover stubbornly and brazenly chases his lips again and squeaking in protest when he feels Blake’s sticky mouth on his neck.

“You’re so gross, Shelton,” he gripes, twisting to break free from Blake’s grip and shivering from head to toe when he manages, wiping his neck with the back of his hand and scrunching his eyes in mock disgust, “Ugh, look what you did! I hate you so much.”

Blake just licks his own lips with a loud smack and raises his eyebrows suggestively at him. “I could clean that right up for you, honey.”

It’s a good thing they’re in commercials already—at least he hopes they are, Jesus fuck—or maybe not so much since he gets a whack on the head and a glare from Carson as he’s staggering back to his chair and the audience is still screaming so much his head is starting to hurt.

“Dude, you’re something else,” Pharrell says, wide-eyed and earnest as ever, standing to talk to him since it’s pretty much the only way Adam will hear him, “Both of you.”

Carson has managed to shut everybody up by the time Christina makes her own comment, sparing glances to the two of them before leaning back on her seat with a long-suffering smile.

“You boys are in so much trouble,” she says, loud and poised, “Your poor wives, I feel sorry for them.”

Adam pales more than a little at that, wondering if Miranda is going to change her mind after this and take out her shotgun to shoot him dead for messing with her man.

Blake just laughs.

***

Blake takes the dressing down from his friend and boss with good humor, not regretting what he did one bit and not surprised either when the video of the both of them doing the twizzler challenge goes viral and it’s pretty much everything people are talking about.

“I still can’t believe you put your tongue in his mouth,” Carson sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose while Blake opens another Pepsi can for him and presses it to his palm.

“It was sweet,” he teases, grinning, “The twizzler tasted nice too, not gonna lie.”

When Carson looks daggers at him and doesn’t seem amused at all, Blake gets a little bit defensive.

“Would you be making this big of a deal if Christina and Adam had done it?” he asks, suddenly seething, “What the hell is wrong with some harmless PDA between friends?”

“Yes!” Carson growls, “Blake, we’re a family show, for fuck’s sake! I told you guys, a peck was fine, but tongue? What the hell is wrong with _you_?”

Blake has the decency to blush this time. Perhaps he did take it too far, he wasn’t exactly thinking at that moment. Having Adam’s little body between his arms and his skilled, soft lips so close—shit, he’d wanted to kiss him so bad he couldn’t help himself. He was lucky the chair had hidden the worst of his enthusiasm from prying eyes.

“Okay, okay, you’re right,” he sighs, finally meek, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly, “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

“I hope so,” Carson states, cold, “You know what people are saying about you two now?”

He nods, looking down as he recalls the one text he’d gotten from Miranda after the whole thing.

_Be careful._

He’d gone almost mad with worry until he was able to talk with her, thinking he’d gone and scooched the pooch being too open about his desire for Adam and made her regret her decision of letting them be together too.

“ _I’m not mad, honey_ ,” his wife had told him, soft and patient as always, “ _And I haven’t felt jealous of Adam in years, if that’s what you’re implying too, I just worry about you. People are going to talk now and there are ugly people everywhere that might try to hurt you or Adam, that might not take this as a joke. Stay safe, okay? I love you._ ”

“You think—“ Christ, his throat goes dry just thinking about the possibility of Adam getting hurt because of his impulsiveness. He doesn’t understand why people cut him such a big slack and don’t rub stuff in his face no matter what he does, but he’s upset about it now that it means Adam is getting the blunt of this whole thing and people keep calling him slut and home wrecker, “You think someone will try to hurt Adam?”

Carson’s expression softens then and he scoots closer to him on the couch, squeezing his shoulder in sympathy. “I think you should keep a low profile for a while,” he suggests, “No more smooches on camera, no more lap sitting,” at Blake’s no doubt sullen expression, he adds quickly, “Just for a couple of weeks, buddy, until this dies down.”

He bites his lip, wishing he’d taken this seriously before Adam started getting threats all over the internet, “Alright.”

“We’ve already improved the security on set,” Carson assures him, “Nothing will happen but it’s better to be safe.”

It drives him up the wall but he hardly has time to steal a couple of kisses from Adam for the rest of the week, busy as they are with two contestants still on the race and with production all over their asses about not being seen together outside of the studio.

He still checks on his lover almost constantly, to the point Adam starts replying to his texts with frowny faces and capslock and little else.

The night before the next live show, he at least sends Blake a friendlier emoji with its tongue sticking out.

_still alive and kicking, dipshit. miss u._

***

Behati has just arrived from Paris that morning and she’s in the audience somewhere, Blake is aware of it; it’d be kinda hard to miss out with the way Adam keeps turning around and smiling that eager and sweet smile of his that only seems to have her name on it.

He’s not a jealous man by definition and he’s never felt uncomfortable with Adam’s wife around, not even when he takes Adam to bed, but he can’t help feeling a little bit left out after not seeing his lover’s pretty face for days and not being able to touch him or even look in his direction without fearing he’s making things worse.

It’s after a performance of one of the front runners on Christina’s team that shit hits the fan.

One second Adam is talking and they’re all looking at him as he gives compliments and gushes excitedly over Christina’s singer and the next Blake sees someone approaching him from the side and has to struggle to remain on his chair because surely, no one would be able to get close and hurt Adam, right?

He regrets it instantly when Adam yelps and raises a hand to his cheek. Blake is already moving but it’s too damn late; the dude who sneaked past security from the front row and landed a punch on Adam’s face is already gripping the lead man’s head and smacking it harshly against the front of his chair.

Adam goes down without a single sound, his eyes big with shock and his breath cut short with pain before his body drops in a heap that Pharrell is thankfully quick enough to catch before he hits the floor.

Blake doesn’t even know what he’s doing at that point. He shoves the attacker towards the stage, away from Adam as both the contestant and Carson scramble to get out of the way, and lets go of the man’s collar only to rain blows on him one after the other until his knuckles are bloody and his throat is raw from growling and shutting the fuck up of the dude every time he tries to call Adam a faggot again. He’s a big ass of a man, almost as big as Blake, but he blocks the hits he throws back at him so easily it’s almost like the man is an ant under his boot and Blake feels like crushing it very much, enough that he feels mild satisfaction instead of dread when the assailant’s bones crack with the force of his retaliation.

Security pushes past him to take over the situation but Blake isn’t having any of it, not until Carson grips and pulls at his arm to get his attention.

“That is enough!” his friend shouts, “We need to take Adam to the hospital now! Get a hold of yourself, Blake!”

His heart seems to shrink when his gaze falls on Adam. There’s a nasty gash on his hairline that keeps bleeding freely when Behati gingerly lifts the cloth she’s pressing on it while she cradles Adam’s head in her lap and she starts sobbing when Blake makes it to their side and takes over applying pressure on the wound.

“You’re gonna be okay, baby,” she says, leaning to kiss Adam’s cheek tenderly, and Blake swallows his own distress, reaching to pull her into his arms when the paramedics get Adam on a stretcher. She goes meekly, burrowing into his chest, and Blake swears not to let her go ‘til all of this passes.

His hands only begin throbbing on the way there but he pays no heed to them, trying to make himself as small as possible on the side of the ambulance and murmuring reassurances to Behati’s hair that they both desperately need to believe.

***

Adam’s mom and siblings are in the waiting room already when Blake and Behati walk inside after seeing Adam wheeled into the E.R. It takes Adam’s bandmates a little longer to get there but once they do Blake feels compelled to apologize.

He’s never been one for apologies but he feels so responsible for this, for both causing it and not being able to protect Adam, that he doesn’t even realize that he’s doing it until he’s done mumbling how sorry he is and how stupid he feels.

Jesse swats him on the arm, “Don’t be silly, man, this isn’t your fault. Adam wouldn’t—wait, is that blood on your hands? Dude,” he laughs and it’s a bit forced but genuine and the air around them thins a bit, “So you did hit the fucker to a bloody pulp. Good.”

Behati smiles up at Blake, “He did great.”

Carson and Pharrell haul him to the bathroom so he can wash the scrapes on his hands. They don’t comment on the fact he’s shaking and he doesn’t protest when Christina presses something that tastes like sugary water to his lips once they’re back to their seats.

He’s still shaken when he steps outside for just long enough to call Miranda.

She promises she’ll be there as soon as possible.

***

“Mister Levine has a broken cheekbone and a concussion,” the doctor, a tiny wisp of a woman that carries herself like she’s twice her size, informs them after Behati gives her permission to talk in front of them, “His head injury bled a lot, as most injuries involving the scalp do, but he’s awake already and his CT scan came clean so he’s going to be okay.”

Blake swears he breathes for the first time in an hour after hearing that and he sags on his chair, rubbing his face with a hand as Carson squeezes his knee.

“There’s no misalignment in the bones of his face, fortunately,” the doctor keeps going, “Otherwise, he’d require surgery to fix the fracture. Everything he needs right now is rest and fluids along with some mild painkillers. We’ll discharge him in a few hours as long as there’s someone available to watch him for the next twenty four hours and bring him back in case there’s any worsening of his headache, dizziness, drowsiness or new symptoms such as impaired vision or memory issues. He’ll need to take it easy for a while, of course, but we’ve already explained to him how important it is that he does.”

They all cheer and thank her. After Behati stands up and hugs the doctor, she tells her she can come in to see Adam.

The super model looks back at Blake as she’s walking down the hallway with a soft smile and nods slightly. Blake knows she’ll let him in too as soon as she can so he sighs and pulls out his phone to call Miranda and share the good news.

“You don’t have to come, ‘Ran,” he says because it’s true and her tour is starting in just a couple of days. It does come out a bit weak so sue him, he’s drained.

His wife ignores him, as he knew she would, and blows a kiss to him through the phone before boarding her flight.

Blake loves her a little more because of that and all the little things she does for him.

***

He wants a drink and it’s not the overly sweet latte Mickey puts in his hand but he takes it. His mama raised him better than to be an ungrateful little shit after all and the caffeine that he hopes is somewhere in it even though he can’t exactly taste it might just be what he needs.

He’s downed two thirds of it by the time Behati comes and kisses James on the cheek, whispering something in his ear as Blake tries not to get moody thinking he’s obviously not going in next.

Adam’s mom bids them all goodbye after having her turn in Adam’s room and he startles when he feels thin fingers on his forearm, tugging slightly.

“Come on, big guy,” Behati says, grinning, “Someone wants to see you.”

***

“Blake,” Adam slurs, a tired and small shimmer of a smile stretching his features before pain kicks in and he stops, shutting his eyes tight for a moment. They’re a lovely shade of pale green when he opens them again and he’s not even as white as Blake was expecting he’d be but he still wants to scoop him up and keep everything that could ever hurt him away from him for good, “Hey.”

There is a swollen, dark purple bruise on his right cheekbone and Blake is very careful in skirting it as his thumb brushes Adam’s lashes lovingly and he leans down to peck his forehead. “Hey yourself,” he whispers, voice suddenly tight, and he can’t even keep talking when Adam’s hand with the IV in it reaches for him. He just takes it in his own and kisses it too.

He chuckles when Adam all but makes a duck face at him until he kisses him on the lips too. He feels a whole lot better. There’s a chair by the bed and Blake’s dropped his ass on it without even noticing, absorbed as he is in checking Adam’s okay with his own eyes.

“’M okay, Geez,” Adam sighs, turning to look at Behati as Blake’s fingers lightly inspect the gauze around his head, “Why is he acting like he hasn’t seen me in like ten years?”

“He might not see you ever again,” Behati states in a no-nonsense tone, toeing off her shoes to curl beside Adam on the small hospital bed. The smirk she presses against Adam’s neck kind of gives her away but Blake has to make an effort not to bark out a laugh, “He killed a man with his bare hands today, he’s going to prison.”

Adam raises his left eyebrow, turning back to him. His eyes are hooded for all the wrong reasons but he’s really okay and Blake is so relieved he couldn’t stand on his feet even if he had to. “That so, Shelton? D’you kill for me?”

“I would,” he answers, gently nuzzling the intact side of Adam’s face, and it’s a little terrifying but he’s pretty sure he’s not kidding.

***

Adam taps a beat with his foot, restless after just about half a day of lying down in bed, and watches Behati as she puts the first DVD of Game of Thrones after he insisted he was more likely to die out of boredom than from straining his eyes to watch some TV.

There’s a big bowl of popcorn on the bedside table and his stomach churns just looking at it—the dizziness has probably been the worst part of this whole post-someone-smacked-his-head-against-a-hard-surface situation—but he’ll munch some anyway and hope it doesn’t come right back out because he really doesn’t feel like going back to the clinic like at all and if he throws up then it’s game over and he’ll have to go back there because his brain might be swelling or so the doctor said.

To be honest, he’s more than a little peeved. He didn’t want Behati to spend her week off babying him and yet here they are, his beautiful and incredible wife asking him how he’s doing at least two times an hour and making sure he has water and the lights aren’t bothering him as she snuggles with him and traces his eyebrows with her fingertips only to kiss him chastely later.

He can tell he scared her and everybody and he feels worse when he realizes he kind of loves her taking care of him but he calms down thinking he deserves this after getting jumped by a psycho that thinks it’s okay to assault people just people they like dick and not pussy.

Or in Adam’s case, both.

All the sex scenes on the show don’t help one bit with how much Adam is dying to make love to his wife. It’s been a while since they’ve had a moment to themselves and it’s not exactly because he’s been too busy getting fucked by Blake, more like Behati’s been getting more jobs than ever and he’s ecstatic about her success, he really is, but he’s missed her and they have a very healthy sex life when they manage to be in the same city so he’s worried, alright, he’s worried he’s failing at keeping her satisfied just because some douchebag knocked him out cold and literally broke his face too.

He wishes he was tougher, sometimes, especially on times like this. He loves that Blake came to his rescue, he does—and according to Christina he pretty much turned into The Hulk which is all kinds of awesome and makes him feel really good for some reason but—shit, he just wishes he’d noticed something was up to at least, you know, _move out of the way_ and save himself and everyone the trouble of looking after him.

Behati straightens up from his chest to kiss his brow, her eyes so soft with understanding Adam wonders if he’s more screwed-up than he thought he was and ended up saying some of the stuff he’s been thinking out loud.

Her legs tighten their grip on his and he tries to smooth the frustration out of his face but he’s never been very good at keeping things from her.

She doesn’t mention it though and he’s grateful for it. He holds her waist just a bit tighter and looks at her, wondering how he got so lucky.

“You want to watch something else, babe?” she asks softly and she stops him from shaking his head with her hand on his chin which is great since it’s been a while since the room has spun around him and he wants to keep it that way.

“This is fine,” he says, because it is and he knows she’s been looking forward to knowing what all the fuss about this show is about. He still scrunches his nose when that blonde chick—the queen—starts to make out with her twin brother, “That is so gross though, I feel like I should close my eyes until it’s over.”

She giggles and if she lowers the volume just a tiny bit to let Adam nod off later, well, he’s not going to complain.

***

Miranda is holding his hand as they both sit in front of Blake’s attorney in his living room because apparently the douche that had the gall to hurt Adam also has the nerve to threaten Blake with suing him and has put a restraining order on him.

“He says he fears for his life,” the lawyer remarks after reading them a list of the injuries he suffered under Blake’s hands.

“He should,” Blake says, raising a glass filled to the brim with tequila. He drinks it down like it’s water, doesn’t even cough with the burn and if his eyes water a little, it’s only because he’s human, “I ever see him as much as looking at a picture of Adam the wrong way, I’ll kill him.”

Miranda kisses his cheek as if in approval and his lawyer, God bless his heart, doesn’t seem one bit perturbed by any of it.

***

The lives for the rest of the week are suspended. Blake’s PR team practically tapes his mouth to stop him from talking about what happened since some footage of him going batshit insane did make it live but they can’t exactly ban him from twitter.

He’s said some questionable things in there because—well, he’s _him_ , but he’s not going to sit down and condone every single homophobic person who denies being so while demanding him to make some kind of statement confirming the platonic nature of his relationship with Adam.

He wouldn’t do it, not even if they were just friends.

‘All this no homo bullcrap needs to stop. Right now. You need to know for sure to decide how to treat people? Well ya’ll suck..’

He has to turn down the notifications after that but the tweet got to 10k in like a minute so he thinks it’s all good.

***

“Why didn’t you come visit me when I was half comatose, asshole?” Adam asks him, blunt as usual, the first time Blake gets his arms around him and burrows into his shoulder after the ordeal, “I missed you a lot and I didn’t have cooties, you know.”

Blake sighs. He’s spent the last day in penance of sorts because it’d finally come and hit him in the head with a hammer that he just can’t do whatever he wants and don’t care about the consequences, not when they could affect the people he loves.

“You have to think about three people now, sweetheart,” Miranda had told him and her words were still grave despite of her hand carding through Blake’s curls, “It’s been two since you married me and you haven’t been very good at it but I love you, you know that, and I can take the crap people give us because you ran your mouth or did something you were better off not doing but wanted to do anyway. It’s three now, four if you ask me and you know I’m right.”

Adam gives him these itty bitty punches on the back when he fails to reply. Blake smiles and cocks his head to kiss the side of the smaller man’s neck, pulling him closer to his body to relish the shiver that goes through Adam at the gesture.

“Well you had company and I—“ Blake clears his inconveniently dry throat and gives up making up some lame excuse altogether, “I thought it’d be weird, alright? With your friends here. You know I don’t mind Behati, I think she’s all kinds of awesome, but they don’t know about us and I just wanted to hug you all day. It would’ve been real awkward.”

Adam breaks apart enough to look at him. He blinks very slowly and bursts out laughing next only to stop and moan in pain, cupping his cheek gingerly. “Ugh, you’re such an idiot, don’t make me laugh so hard!”

“I didn’t say shit that was funny,” Blake counters, slightly annoyed, “I was just here, pouring my heart out and you laughed, so who’s the asshole now, huh?”

“Aw, don’t be like that, babe,” Adam says, pulling him down for a kiss that appeases Blake worryingly quickly. It’s chaste and sweet, definitely a change from their usually hungry and impatient ones but he likes it. He gazes down at the younger man through half-lidded eyes as their noses brush. Adam’s all blurry but he can tell he’s beaming even though it must hurt, “You know me and the guys go a long way back, right? We’ve known each other since we were kids. I couldn’t lie to them about us. They would’ve figured it out anyway, they know me.”

Blake processes this kind of slowly. His frown softens but stays. “So they… know? And they don’t think it’s weird?”

“Are you kidding?” Adam gives him a frown of his own, putting some distance between them again but keeping his arms around his neck, “James is poly, they get it. They’re happy for us!”

“Poly?” he asks, confused and resigned to Adam making fun of him for not knowing what in blue blazes that’s supposed to mean.

“I’m not gonna tease you about it because you look like a kicked puppy right now,” Adam says like he’s reading his mind, “Besides I can’t laugh, so where’s the fun in that?”

He huffs. “Adam.”

“Right,” his lover is biting back a laugh, he can tell, “It’s short for polyamorous, people who have more than one relationship at a time but everybody involved knows about it and they’re cool with that, you know? Like us.”

Blake raises his eyebrows, interested but still confused, “So like polygamous?”

“Oh god no,” Adam makes a face and boops him, “Don’t let James hear you saying that.”

“So we’re poly,” Blake utters, just to test the word on his tongue.

“If you want,” Adam shrugs and nuzzles his shoulder with the uninjured side of his face, apparently done talking about it, “You know I don’t give a shit about labels but if you like it, by all means.”

Blake snorts, “You think I care about that crap?”

Adam sighs, his breath warming the skin of his neck. “I know you don’t. I love that about you.”

Blake smiles and kisses his forehead, ignoring both Adam’s dogs still trying to get his attention and the fact they’ve been hugging for like ten minutes. “I love you, you know.”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, he just leans back down for another kiss and doesn’t let Adam go.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is het-heavy. If you don't like that, you're good if you skip Behati's POV. There's plenty of slash after that.

Adam’s spent the last couple of days either dozing or lying very still in bed while petting their dogs and listening to some of his favorite music in a volume low enough not to worsen the lowkey headache he’s been nursing ever since _it_ happened, even being on the painkillers the doctors prescribed for him.

Behati knows, just like that, that what happened was serious. It takes nothing short of a small cataclysm to knock her husband down and seeing him feeling bad enough that he’s willing to rest without putting that much of a fight about it and the ‘wasted’ time that involves, that’s—it’s disconcerting, to say the least.

She’s so glad and thankful the production of The Voice seems to take Adam’s health seriously and had given him the rest of the week off. He needs it; his eyes still water and go a little unfocused when he does something as small as showering and shaving and she’s not fond at all of the way her heart jumps to her throat and stays clawing at her until she can get him back to bed before he stumbles and hurts himself without meaning to.

She makes his favorite meals for him, surprised at the flare of genuine hate she feels towards the man who did this to her husband when even that can’t tempt him enough to combat the queasiness in his stomach and finish his plate.

She binge-watches shows while carding her fingers through Adam’s short but soft hair, always careful about his stitches, cherishing the small pleased noises he makes in his sleep for her, and surreptitiously asks him questions to make sure he’s alert and his concussion isn’t getting worse every time his eyes flutter open and she finds him smiling a dopey, sleepy smile at her.

“Best nursemaid _ever_ ,” he marvels feelingly, snuggling against her in such an adorable way she can’t help wanting to tease him, “I love you so much.”

“Better than your mom, huh?” she asks, grinning wide as Adam gawks up at her, “I’m gonna tell her you said that.”

He sniffs against her belly, pressing the uninjured side of his face to the threadbare Led Zeppelin tee she took from his closet to wear today. It really is _their_ closet with how often they like snatching each other’s clothes and put them on to smell and feel a bit of the other against their skin.

She’s pretty sure Adam put on her pants without noticing.

It makes her smile.

“’Mmkay,” he settles for, knowing full well by now she’s just kidding. She’s not one of those wives that like to make a competition out of everything to make sure they’re more important than the mother-in-law and she’s at peace with the fact Adam’s mom’s cooking will continue to be out of her league for at least ten more years, “You’re way prettier, babe, and you’re a giraffe shepherd to boot. You kick _ass_. She’ll understand.”

She laughs and holds Adam just a little bit tighter because they both need it.

***

Adam can spend more time out of bed without feeling like a truck hit him by the time Blake finally visits and he spends most of it between the Country singer’s arms. Behati looks at them, sympathetic, and leaves to walk their dogs after warning Blake to wait for her to get back because they need to talk.

His expression is not exactly one of dread, more like solemn acceptance, when they sit down in the living room after putting Adam to bed and waiting for him to fall asleep to sneak downstairs.

She crosses her legs on the ottoman, leveling Blake with a look as the older man looks guiltier by the second.

She takes pity on him, smiling slightly and shaking her head.

“I don’t blame you for what happened, Blake,” she tells him, “That’s not what I wanted to talk about.”

He blinks at her, more than a bit surprised. “Then why do I feel like I’m in trouble? Did I do something?”

His thick accent is endearing enough to make _her_ bite back a bigger smile and she’s not the one in love with him in this particularly odd equation so that’s saying something.

“Yeah, actually,” she replies, her chest still seizing when she remembers the sounds of Adam’s sobs in her ear while she was a world away and not close enough to comfort him like he deserves, “Adam called me that morning, you know, that day he dropped,” she shares, having no idea if she’s using the right verbs or not but it’s not like it matters.

The only thing that matters is that her husband’s lover understands she won’t have that happening again.

Adam explained things to her, didn’t shy away from telling her any details, but Behati doesn’t like the idea of Blake getting off the hook so easy. Miranda said she had it covered and she trusts her to handle her man but it’s on her to take care of her own too.

She’s just been waiting for a chance to do it face to face.

“I guess he didn’t tell you and you didn’t ask either,” Blake winces at her veiled accusation and seems to be holding his breath for her to go on, “But I didn’t sign up for you to break his heart, accidentally or not, and I’m not going to let it happen again.”

“What?” he cuts in, horrified, “I didn’t—I’d never—“

“You might not know how he sounds after he’s been crying,” Behati says, soft but firm, “After he’s cried for _hours_ and still feels just like he did at the beginning but I do.  I’ve done that to him too, made him think I was leaving him when that was the farthest thing from my mind.”

The Country singer bites his bottom lip, lowering nervous eyes that dart around them without seeing anything in particular.

Behati reaches for his hand and squeezes it briefly, successfully drawing his attention back to her.

“You’re past the strength now, past the walls that protect him from everyone else,” she tells him, and maybe later she’ll tell him about Anne but that’ll be once Blake realizes on his own that when Adam loves somebody he does it like it’s a race he’s running with no brakes and never stops unless the feelings are yanked forcefully from his heart just like the cables from a battery, “So don’t fuck it up, okay? Be good to him.”

“I will,” Blake promises, looking downright dumbfounded now that she’s finished her little speech, “I—I didn’t mean to, I’ll be better.”

She smiles, satisfied with his reaction, and fairly confident that he won’t take Adam for granted again.

***

It’s late Sunday morning, just a few hours shy of her leaving to New York for work, and they haven’t left the bed yet. She doesn’t feel like it at all, not when Adam is kissing her and pressing her to his body in that way that makes her toes curl.

“I’m so mad,” he murmurs between breaths and he doesn’t sound mad, just frustrated. She can practically feel him trembling with it against her and her lips are having a hard time kissing that out of him, even when she sucks a couple of hickeys onto his neck, but she’ll keep trying as she enjoys his hands around her waist and the way their tangled legs fit perfectly together, “I had so many plans for us, so many.”

Behati doesn’t doubt that and she lets Adam know it’s okay digging her fingertips into his nape and his shoulder blade as they deepen the kiss, his teeth making her lips sting just right to make her shiver. The muscles under her fingers ripple in response and she moans, looking at Adam through her lashes as his hand palms her panties and finds her wet and hot for him.

She’s been wet for days now, on and off and on again, aching to feel him inside even if it’s just his clever fingers what he has to offer and nothing else. She’s put his health first, no matter how much she’s missed him, and made do with cuddles and brief make out sessions that she’s been careful to stop before things escalated.

She can’t say she’s sorry for forgetting to do so now, not when Adam is already pushing her underwear aside and teasing her just where she needs him to.

She throws her head back as her husband fingers her, gasping and trying to spread her legs despite they’re both lying on their sides and she can only rise one leg to give Adam more room to push two fingers into her, hooking them in that spot that makes her cry out his name and pressing the heel of his hand against her clit in a way that has heat concentrating both down there and on her cheeks.

She’s so close already but he doesn’t rush it, he never does with her pleasure, and they keep kissing sloppily with her practically riding his fingers, her leg gripping Adam’s still clothed hips tight. She’s so wet she can smell herself and she bites her lip around a moan when she understands this won’t be enough to placate her, not considering she has two long and lonesome weeks ahead of her without her handsome husband to keep her company.

“Shhh,” Adam soothes her and then he’s touching her harder, gliding his lips in a trail of gentle but hot kisses on her neck as he makes her spasm around and against his hand between her legs, “I’ve got you, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

Behati blinks through the haze of her orgasm, thinking about resisting because he’s supposed to be resting but raising her hips to help him get rid of her clothes after he assures her he’s okay and he finally looks like it might be true after a long week of worrying her sick. His eyes are bright with eagerness and lust and his smile, steady and seductive, could make her agree to pretty much anything at that moment.

She lies back on the mattress after undressing him and trails her hands over his sides, his torso, his biceps, his buttocks, and just about everywhere she can reach. It’s a pity, she thinks sometimes, that he doesn’t like tattoos below the waist. Anything would look incredible on him and he’d look so sexy with more ink that just the thought of it has her panting and closing her legs to quell the burst of arousal the image brings her.

He kisses their matching tattoo on her ribs, gently coaxing her thighs open to nuzzle against her pussy and slowly breach her with his tongue, caressing her inner thighs softly with his hands just how she likes it. She trembles and arches for him, bringing him deeper inside her as she gasps for breath and feels the sparks of desire crackling and stretching in her gut again. Her hand on his hair is gentler than usual but he still knows exactly what she wants with just a few tugs at the right moments.

When he noses between her labia and slurps around her clit she’s lost again, crying out her way through another climax that leaves her a little warmer and calmer this time, her skin tingling pleasantly as she hears Adam licking and smacking his lips obscenely.

She giggles and straightens up to look at him, catches him smiling like a Cheshire cat while sprawling between her legs like that’s exactly where he belongs.

“That was nice,” she breathes out, playful, tossing some locks of hair out of her face with a hand.

“Nice?” he repeats, mock offended, his eyes shining with contentment, his chin still a bit damp with her, “Girl, that was my fucking best.”

She makes a face, considering, “Was it?”

She takes his left hand in hers and kisses his knuckles after he touches his bruised cheekbone gingerly and frowns, no doubt thinking he would’ve done better under other circumstances and kicking himself for it, if Behati knows him well, and she does.

“Baby…” she whispers, gently pushing him so he’s the one under her now, “I was kidding.”

Adam blinks up at her, cupping her face and completely ignoring his dick still hard against his belly even though it looks red and leaking and quite desperate for her attention, “I know that, I just, this week went by so fast and I—“ he yelps when she grabs him and pumps him for a short moment in her hand as she straddles his hips, his jaw going slack and his breath stuttering as she lowers herself on him and he goes right in easily with how wet and turned on she is.

He always looks so wild and awed when he’s inside her—she loves that, can’t get enough of it, and she welcomes the firm grip on her hips and smiles wider when he stops moving the second she pushes at his chest even though she can feel him twitching in her and he must want nothing but to go at it hard and fast with how long it’s been since the last time.

“Let me, babe,” she pants, sweaty and wanting pretty much the same thing but knowing better than to give in when they need to be careful with Adam’s head. He fits so nicely in her, filling her so well and brushing all the right places, that it’s a challenge to hold back for the both of them but she manages, biting her lower lip around a feisty smile and grinding her hips against his, “Don’t move too much. I’ve got this.”

“Fuck,” it’s all he says, obediently keeping at least his upper body still as they move up and down together and she does most of the work but hardly notices it with how amazing it feels to have him like this, “Bee, fuck, _yes_.”

He cheats a little bit, thumbing her clit to make her scream before he’s joining her over the edge, making that ‘O’ face that she loves so much as his eyes flutter. She keeps him inside with a chuckle and lets him fill her with his seed, raising an eyebrow at him after he tries to pull out to prevent that. He looks at her dazedly but with a happy, almost drunk smile on his face, his fingers around her hips stroking her gently.

They’ve talked about her not taking the pill anymore but she’s still on contraception until they can really talk about dates and what exactly it is they’re going to do after they have a baby. The easy part with Adam is going to be being parents and the hard figuring out how to balance their careers in the new mix and she wants that with him, whatever _that_ is, but she’s not sure it’s the right moment yet.

They catch their breaths for a little while, snuggling against each other with nothing but their skin to keep warm, and then Adam is straightening up and holding her over his thighs with that focused expression on his face that makes her heart speed up in her chest.

“I wanna make you come again,” he declares, nuzzling against her breasts, and she guides his head towards her left nipple in tacit yes to the question he’s asking.

She arches against him and moans, curling her arms under his armpits to hold on to his shoulders, and shivers as Adam suckles hungrily and drives his fingers in and out of her with wet popping sounds and if she scratches him a bit too hard he doesn’t complain, just gasps and looks at her with gleaming eyes through all of it.

She doesn’t know if Adam takes off his ring when he’s with Blake and she won’t ask; she’s so lucky to have his heart—even if it’s just half of it or his whole heart for half the time she’d have if things were different—in her hands, to still awake this kind of adoration in him, that she wouldn’t change it for the world.

He can’t take her to the airport but she’s smiling and thinking of him when she steps into LAX, the flashes of the paps blinding her a little even behind her sunglasses but she ignores them, used as she is to the spotlight even if she doesn’t always enjoy it.

She touches the choker necklace Adam helped her put around her neck, remembering the feel of his lips on her nape as they said goodbye.

Whoever said love had to be an exclusive commitment in order to work had it so wrong she feels a little bit bad for them.

***

Adam apologizes to his artists for not being able to rehearse their songs with them last week and tries to make up for it arriving super early on Monday morning to check on their progress. Since the show was pretty much canceled there was no need for him to pick new songs for today, although he has several in mind in case they both make it through the week.

It’s one o’clock by the time Blake grabs him and steers him to his trailer, cupping Adam’s head and kissing him, soft but lingering, the moment they’re alone.

“How’s your noodle?” he drawls, brow furrowed in concern as his fingertips gingerly touch the stitches in his hairline, and Adam huffs because he’s still a little miffed Blake’s been avoiding him and only going to his place for short spans of time.

“Oh look, he cares,” he wisecracks, looking at Blake expectantly for some explanation that doesn’t involve Blake feeling guilty about what happened because that one got old pretty much from the start.

Nothing comes and he doesn’t push for it, sighing and burrowing his face into Blake’s neck instead.

So his Country hick of a lover still feels guilty. Great.

“You really like hearing me telling you I’ve missed you, don’t you, dickhead?” he mumbles instead of trying to reason with him again because he knows how that’s going to work out by now, clutching Blake’s denim jacket tight.

“I don’t,” Blake whispers in his ear, breathing against his temple and nuzzling his face in that way that can bring tears to Adam’s eyes if he pays too much attention to it. He’s had lots of lovers in his life but just two of them have made him feel cherished and loved like this and he’s still in awe, never thought for one second Blake could be this gentle and loving with him, “And I don’t like missing you either but I had stuff on my mind.”

“Plotting to take the competition from me again?” Adam teases, “You had made trophy number six already, cowboy? You’re going to have to give it to me when I kick your ass.”

“You’re so cute and funny,” Blake says, lowering his voice enough to make Adam shiver and make him forget he’s mocking him. He noses him for Adam to tip his head up for him and Adam is already parting his lips, moaning into the kiss as Blake pins him harder against the thin wall of his trailer.

He doesn’t take Blake’s words about his coaching skills to heart ever but he’ll take an impromptu make out session over that particular brand of verbal abuse any day. He doesn’t need to hear it’s been three years since he’s beaten Blake and how the taller man can’t even remember what that feels like anymore, he has enough remembering all the hard work he’s been doing and how that more often than not means jackshit at the moment they get the final results.

He loves his job and it means he gets to spend days on end with Blake, either laughing at him or with him most of the time, so it’s a win-win he doesn’t plan on quitting any time soon.

***

His cheek is still a bit swollen but since the cameras usually stick to the left side of his face it’s hardly noticeable and everything goes well. They’re able to sneak back to the lounge area between trailers to hang out with everyone for a while and celebrate no one tried to kill anyone this time around in a lowkey and alcohol-free way that’s boring as hell but it’s about the only thing they’re allowed with the kids on their teams.

Adam sinks in the couch right next to Blake, snuggling against his side and pillowing his head on his lover’s big arm. He’s got a sweater on but Blake’s warmth still calls to him, it always does, and when Carson and a couple of musicians from the band join them he doesn’t think twice about climbing to Blake’s lap so they can all sit together.

Blake’s hand stays curled around his hip the whole time, his grip tightening every now and then in a way that has Adam zoning out of the conversation more than once but it’s only when he’s squirming to get back on his feet and Blake adamantly stops him from doing it that he understands the message the taller man was trying to tell him.

Blake is hard against his backside and just the knowledge makes him blush and push back to probably torture him a bit even though his actual intentions are to help him hide it and offer some sort of weak relief while he’s at it.

He must be in pain by now if he’s been aroused for the whole hour they’ve been talking after the show and Carson is giving them a funny look for some reason that Adam really, really hopes isn’t the tiny little noise he made at feeling Blake poking him in front of fucking everyone including a few minors.

“Everything okay there?” the host asks, raising his eyebrows at them.

“Peachy,” Blake drawls stiffly, his free arm snaking around Adam’s waist to hold him tighter as if Adam were actually that much of an asshole and could leave him alone to deal with it any second.

“Your legs falling asleep?” Pharrell ventures from his armchair, as always very concerned about everyone, looking at Blake intently and forcing Adam to bite his cheek not to laugh because nothing is remotely asleep down there and that’s exactly the issue, “I’m sure Adam and I can squeeze together here, man, we can try.”

“He’s fine,” Adam butts in quickly before their fellow coach can go a step farther and offer to sit on the floor so they can be comfortable. He glances back to Blake and sympathy twists in the pit of his stomach when he notices the beads of sweat gathering in his forehead and how flushed he looks, “Just a little bit too sober for his liking, isn’t that right, Big Country?”

Blake agrees and jokes, making everyone laugh and diffusing the awkward moment in a way only he can manage. Carson still looks at them like he’s trying to figure something out but fortunately for Adam being around kids seems to be enough of a buzzkill for him not to join his lover in bonertown.

***

“You sure everyone left?” Blake asks for the tenth time.

Adam doesn’t snap because he can only imagine the hellish evening Blake had. He’s patient and makes one last sweep of the studio with his eyes instead.

“Positive,” he replies, “Well, the security guards are still over there but far away enough they shouldn’t see your, you know, little issue.”

He can’t help but snicker at his own lousy joke—Blake is as big as you’d imagine a man his size would be if not bigger—and Blake looks entirely unamused but stands up and adjusts himself in his jeans.

Adam stares and gulps, finally allowing himself to feel the stir of arousal tugging in his lower belly.

It’s a pleasant sensation that lasts about ten seconds until he sees someone walking to them and curses.

“Shit, it’s Mark,” one of their bosses, no less, and he smacks Blake on the back to get him to leave quicker, “Go, go, I got it!”

Blake makes a choked noise watching him go but Adam is already trotting to meet their producer, smiling his most charming smile and being in his best, most helpful behavior.

They can’t be seen leaving together anyway, not after the post twizzler challenge fiasco, so Adam sighs and tries not to look too sullen when he hears a car leaving the parking lot outside.

***

Tuesday is even more hectic but Adam still makes the time to crash an interview Blake and Pharrell were having a couple of hours before the tailgate. He doesn’t like being left out of these things and the production team is always encouraging him to do this sort of silly shit because their bromance sells apparently so he saunters in front of the camera and jumps over the back of the sofa to put his head on Blake’s thigh.

He did this exact thing when Usher was around and it was really funny too but it’s only now that he can make sense of Blake’s response back then. He seemed nervous, laughing and thanking him sarcastically for ruining their interview, and he was covering his groin kind of awkwardly too and Adam can’t fucking believe he didn’t realize what was going on. He really is a child sometimes.

Adam tries to leave before causing his lover another embarrassing incident but Blake grips his shoulder and pushes him back down, his hand settling on his waist to keep Adam in place and crossing one of his long legs over his knee. Apparently it took him like five seconds to get it up this time and as ridiculous as that is, Adam still feels flattered and wanted in a way that warms him up inside.

Once the interviewer and the camera crew leaves, Blake has no choice but to spew some bullshit about his wife being away for too long to Pharrell even though the guy was _right there_ and had to know it was actually Adam’s closeness what prompted it.

He’s so nice that he doesn’t even look like Blake’s insulted his intelligence, just waves them both away as he rearranges his hat over his head and pretends he’s not looking at them through the corner of his eye.

“I didn’t see anything,” he says with a big grin on his face, “I wasn’t here.”

 _I think he knows_ , Blake texts him during the show after they both stare at Pharrell for a moment and look across the chairs to each other instead of paying attention to the invited artist on stage.

 _You think_ , Adam replies, shaking his head at him because if he keeps it up—like, literally—then everybody is going to know and as much as Adam would _love_ that it’s just not the ideal scenario for their situation and he’s made his peace with that.

Sort of.

***

Behati laughs for almost ten minutes when Adam tells him about Blake getting hard-ons for him on set. They both end up in tears and squeaking and when his wife has to end the Skype call Adam tries not to feel horribly lonely but it doesn’t work very well since he still can’t find a way to go to Blake’s place—or for Blake to come over to his house—without it looking ‘suspicious’ according to the show.

Really, he’s even tried bribing his own friends to go with him or come over to make it work.

“James!” Adam whines, dragging the ‘a’ as much as he possibly can without getting on his nerves, “Please, man, you gotta help me out here!”

“ _Adam, I told you, I’m busy,_ ” his friend says for the fifth time, “ _Sorry but you’ll have to look for someone else to be your chaperone._ ”

“But I like you the best,” he insists and he’s pretty sure James can hear him pouting over the phone, “’Come on, please? I’ll let you play any part you want on tour, I promise!”

James laughs at that. “ _Man, you really wanna see him, don’t you? Sorry, I still can’t make it._ ”

“You don’t love me,” Adam moans, pretending to sob miserably.

“ _Adam, just haul your ass there. Screw the show!_ ” the blonde exclaims, “ _Let them do damage control if that’s really needed. Just go and let your Sasquatch boyfriend fuck you silly. I know you got scared because of what happened, but it’s gonna be okay. No one will get to you again._ ”

Adam doesn’t mention how everyone’s been saying that since last year and it’s turned out to be a lie every time; the first time that fan ninja’ed her way to the stage and kissed him on the cheek, the second time that drunk girl tried to do the same and she scratched his ear and he had to swallow down a scream and act like everything was fine as he sneakily led her towards Security and the third time he was leaving Jimmy Kimmel’s studio and got powdered sugar over him and trembled in rage and panic because for all he knew it could be heroine or worse, it wasn’t like he was going to taste the thing to know what exactly that motherfucker threw at him.

But maybe it’ll be okay this time. He has Blake to keep him safe, after all, maybe nothing else will happen now that his tall and handsome lover is aware of the kind of attention Adam attracts despite his best intentions.

“Okay,” Adam sniffles and just because James is making it sound like Blake would be doing them all a favor he adds, “But if I get in trouble it’s gonna be your fault.”

James does laugh some more but at least he agrees so Adam takes it as a win.

***

As much as it pains him—and it does pain him, not only sexually—Blake isn’t really expecting to spend any alone time with Adam until things after he beat the living shit out of Adam’s attacker while they were still on air have died down a little.

That is why he opens the door to greet his gorgeous little lover looking every bit as perfect as he always does with half of his hair sticking out in every direction and his biggest pair of sweatpants and a faded, kind of smelly t-shirt. He’d been in the middle of catching some shut-eye since the alternative was being miserable and probably talk Adam into sexting with him like they were a couple of horny teenagers that couldn’t see each other because neither of them had their own cars yet.

He stares at Adam’s freshly shaven face and his seamlessly styled hair, pulling him inside by the belt loops of his ripped skinny jeans before he can feel any more sheepish about his own appearance.

“Gosh, you’re here,” he breathes into Adam’s shoulder, fisting the younger man’s snug sweater after pressing him to his front, holding on to him as tight as he can, “You’re really here.”

Adam chuckles as one of his hands smooth his curls, smiling up at him before ducking his face in that coy way he tends to do when he gets anxious. “I didn’t see any paps on my way over but you can tell Carson it was my fault if we’re on TMZ tomorrow.”

Christ, but Blake doesn’t even care if the show sues him at this point. He kisses Adam deeply, diving into the familiar warmth and taste of his mouth, and multitasks unbuckling his belt and flinging it to the side.

“Let me worry about that,” he reassures, tugging Adam’s sweater off his shoulders.

“No way, you did that last time,” the front man counters, raising his chin as if expecting Blake to put up a fight about it, “I’ve got your back now, it’s my turn. Besides, I got jumped at my workplace, they won’t yell at me. They’re still scared I could sue their asses for it.”

“Alright,” Blake concedes since that’s a really good point and proceeds to set the table and reheat the dinner he didn’t feel like eating alone.

Adam sprawls on the counter and distracts him with eager, sweet lips, cajoling Blake to stand between his legs and press close to him until the beeping of the microwave interrupts them.

***

“You want coffee? Looks like you could use some, grandpa, did I wake you up?” Adam asks him, smirking cheekily at him as Blake tries not to be fucking obvious and carry him to bed to have his way with him already. Lord knows he’s been aching for it for almost two weeks and he doesn’t even want to think of how much worse things are going to be when Adam is on tour in some foreign country and he’s still here in the states.

Any other guy would take the hint and realize Adam is way out of his league but not him. It’s not about that—not at all. They click together, they always have from the moment they first met, and they might be an odd couple but odd is good sometimes and it definitely works for them.

His heart hurts a little when he thinks about how much less time they’re going to have for each other once the show is over. He’s never been a man who loses track of the present for focusing too much on the future but he wants to make sure he’s ready for everything this time.

He wouldn’t forgive himself if something happened to Adam again, if something happened to _them_ and this thing they’ve just started to enjoy and discover between them.

“Blake?” Adam calls him, his calloused fingertips tracing Blake’s eyebrows as he gazes at him worriedly. He tries to keep joking but it’s a little forced, “What? Not enough people in here to make it awkward? Does that turn you on now? And here I was thinking it was me.”

“I was just thinking,” he says, his twang getting the best of him and his blue thoughts.

Adam seems to all but read his mind and cups his face for a moment to smooch his cheek before getting up from the comfy place on his thigh and tug him by the hand so he stands up too.

“I can think of a better way to tire you out, cowboy,” the younger man proposes, his eyes already going dark with want as he looks at Blake’s lips, and Blake swears the smile that blooms on his pretty face as Blake scoops him up and takes him to his bedroom is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

***

He tosses Adam on the mattress with enough force to make him jump on it and gape at him. Taking their clothes off is a quick business and he’s pretty sure he ends up widening the holes on Adam’s jeans in his haste to get him naked.

After one too many cold showers and nights on his own, he doesn’t spare much time to foreplay; his lips and teeth graze Adam’s ankle, his left shoulder right where his tattoo sleeve starts and leave marks in their wake that are all the more satisfying with the noises they rip out of Adam.

He kisses the scar on the middle of his chest fondly, in direct contrast to the fingers he’s using to tease the creased skin of his entrance, and Adam’s arms try to pull him closer hesitantly as he looks up at him, so open and trusting Blake feels it like a punch to the gut that knocks the air right out of his lungs.

He indulges Adam for a bit, lowering his body onto his smaller frame as he stretches him with practiced fingers. The lube warms up quickly with the quick motions he’s using to get Adam ready for his length and he shuts Adam’s short little pants with his mouth over his, feeling his long fingers digging into his back and shaking with the same frantic need coursing through him to just get on with it already because they need this, both of them do.

But he wants to see all of his beautiful lover spread beneath him so he moves back as soon as he deems it’s enough and pins Adam down with just a pointed look when he tries to follow, gripping his left calf and holding it up to his shoulder as he finally guides himself in, his dick sliding right in once the head beats the bit of resistance Adam’s walls still offer at first even after all the times he’s had him like this.

His hand slips down to Adam’s thigh, squeezing in encouragement when Adam instinctively hooks his other leg just above Blake’s knee and welcomes his thrusts with a surprised but pleased whimper at the new angle Blake is trying out.

His hips snap forward almost on their own accord, the tempo a little messy because it was already a fucking feat not to come the second he was enveloped by Adam’s tight heat and he won’t last long at all, not with Adam clamping around him like a vice every time he slams home and how long it’s been since the last time he allowed himself to have even the small respite of his own hand.

“Ah! _Ah_ ,” Adam hitches, his body clever as ever as he locks his elbows on the bed and provides better leverage for Blake to fuck him, his hands fisting the sheets weakly as most of his energy goes to writhe and keep his legs spread for him.

They can’t kiss, not like this, but their eyes locked together make up for it.

He loves how Adam doesn’t even think about touching himself, makes sure to jerk him off in counterpoint to the rocking  of his hips, and when Adam keens and shuts his eyes as he throws his head back he knows he got it right.

“Easy,” he chides him mildly, catching Adam’s grimace at moving his still healing head too roughly. He lets go of his thigh to grip Adam’s nape instead, keeping him still where it matters the most. Adam’s foot stays on his back effortlessly and Blake groans louder, pleasure washing over him so hard everything seems brighter and hotter for a long, heady moment. Adam feels so small and lithe like this he wishes he could last longer, “Just like that, darlin’.”

Adam calls out for him, spurting on his own chest and Blake’s hand as he clenches around him and eggs him on to push faster and harder into him just for the extra seconds it takes Blake to come with a hoarse shout of Adam’s name.

Adam gasps as Blake fills him up, cheeks flushed red and eyes hooded and glossy.

“Blake,” he repeats in a whisper, and Blake smiles softly, letting Adam’s legs fall to topple over him and kiss him leisurely. Adam’s lips catch a little on his own but Blake can’t for the life of him figure out whether he’s the one with the dry lips or if it’s Adam.

It might be him, what with the way Adam licks his thumb and dabs Blake’s bottom lip with it. He takes Adam’s finger into his mouth, amazed that Adam can still shudder and look a little bit more awake at the gesture.

He cleans them perfunctorily and he’s not sure who falls asleep first either—probably him, if the ghost of one last small kiss he feels on his mouth is any indication.

***

Adam is watching cartoons with a big mug of coffee on the floor of the living room, right in front of the TV just like a little kid, and grins at him like it’s Saturday morning and he’s been wide awake waiting for the adults to get up to have fun.

There’s nothing innocent in the way Blake’s flannel drowns his slender frame, showing a peek of collarbone and that Hindi lettering tattoo on his chest. There’s nothing deliberate either, he was probably just cold and didn’t want to wake Blake up searching for some of his own clothes to put on, but Blake thanks his lucky stars the carpet is thick and the sun isn’t even up yet so they have time for each other again.

“’Morning,” Adam murmurs and his mouth is warm and tastes like that sugary concoction he likes calling coffee but it’s anything but in Blake’s opinion.

“Hey,” he reciprocates, voice gruff, sitting right behind Adam and pulling him between his outstretched legs. Adam fits against his chest and still leaves room to spare, his earlobe conveniently close to Blake’s mouth for him to nibble playfully for a second, “What’s got into you? It’s barely six, honey.”

Adam wriggles slightly to get comfortable, tilting his head back enough to peep at him, “I wanted to do some yoga before going to the studio.”

“Hmm,” Blake hums, making a mental note to either buy or bring some of Adam’s mats from his place to keep here, “What if we work out together instead?”

Adam chuckles, slides closer to him to let him know he’s on board with the idea. “Smooth, baby, really smooth.”

He takes the mostly empty mug from Adam’s hand and leaves it beside the TV on the rack, peppering the back of his neck with kisses that make him shiver as his hand sneaks beneath his own shirt on Adam’s body. He’s completely hard already and he makes a face when his fingers encounter Adam’s underwear instead of warm skin.

“Wait,” Adam stops him, batting his hand away to turn and straddle his legs, pushing lightly at his bare chest when Blake huffs, “We need to talk about this, you big idiot, you can’t just go getting boners out of fucking _nowhere_ —“

“Out of nowhere? Excuse me,” Blake cuts in, pretends to be offended to cover how ashamed the whole situation makes him feel. He hasn’t had this sort of issue since he was in his teens and he discovered the wonders of sex so he’s pretty out of his depth, “I’m only human and you’re very pretty. I can’t help it.”

“You’re gonna have to,” Adam counters, “I’m sure you can do it, man. You sing with Miranda all the time, right? And you don’t get inappropriate erections around her, so—“

“She doesn’t make a habit of wriggling her ass against me, is the thing,” Blake points out.

Adam squeals, “I do _not—_ “

“You do, you did just now,” he retorts.

“So what, you’re telling me your lap is off-limits now that we’re finally together? That’s not fair,” the lead man protests and he looks so cute in his indignation that Blake has to cup his face and smooch him, “That’s like telling me I can’t snuggle with this giant puppy I found,” his lover keeps going as Blake nuzzles his face and slyly pulls him down to him by the hips, “Are you even listening to me, jackass? Seriously, this is why people believe men only think with their dicks.”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it, sweetheart, it’d just been a while for me when you did it, is all,” Blake reassures him, laughing louder when Adam fixes him with a dubious look, raising one naturally sculpted eyebrow at him, “You can test me today, if you’d like.”

“Hmm,” Adam purses his lips, gauging him for a moment, but Blake can already see him starting to give in as he lets Blake’s hands tug the waistline of his boxers down to expose half of the globes of his ass cheeks, “Maybe I will.”

They break apart barely enough for Adam to fling them somewhere behind the couch and scramble back to Blake’s lap, cradling the Country singer’s neck in both of his hands and resting his forehead against Blake’s as he fingers Adam quickly, just to make sure he won’t be hurting him if they skip some steps this time.

There’s lube in the lower shelf of the coffee table and Blake smacks some shitty ornament reaching with a blind hand to it, probably breaking it too, not that it matters one bit when he takes himself out of his clothes and he’s able to drive almost halfway into Adam before the front man squirms and tenses above him, the fingers on his nape tightening their grip in frustration.

“Breathe, honey,” he instructs, voice husky, taking one of his hands off of Adam’s hipbones to stroke his cheek and get him to look at him. Adam does, swallowing hard and keeping half-lidded eyes focused on him, “That’s it, you’re doing so good, Adam, so good.”

“Can’t,” Adam still bites out but his thighs squeeze Blake tighter, practically goading him in, and he makes the call to listen to Adam’s body instead of his mouth unless Adam uses his safe word, “ _Bla_ -ke—“

He bottoms out at the same time Adam moans brokenly, wiping the few tears from the corners of his eyes before going back to curl his hands on his hips. He spreads his fingers on Adam’s ass, using his thumbs and palms to keep him in place as he starts moving after giving his lover time to adjust and this is either his most genius idea or his worst yet; fucking Adam right in his lap while he’s wearing a plaid shirt Blake’s worn on the show at least five times.

He’s going to think it’s the first one, especially with how Adam nips at his lips between heavy pants and trembles as Blake slides in and out of him. The position makes it hard to get momentum but they make it work somehow. Adam’s slim hips fit so good between his hands and they follow his pace like it’s a music sheet they’re both reading for the time that it’s the charm and everything connects the way it should.

He raises his knees a little bit for Adam to slip his feet underneath his thighs when they’re just down to grinding against each other, making the most of the lull in their coupling to kiss until their lips tingle and the urge to just fuck makes it all the more satisfying when they give in to it once more.

His orgasm hits him like freight train, sudden and potent and bone-deep, and he has to hurry to stroke Adam to completion as he’s jerking inside him—not that Adam seems to care about it, coming with a long, strangled moan and slumping against him, his arms mostly limp as he grips Blake’s back.

He tips his head to kiss the side of Adam’s sweaty neck, caressing his back through his shirt with a satisfied smile on his face.

The television is still on behind Adam, the brightness coming from it not the main source of light in the room anymore since at some point the sun came out outside.

They should really move and start getting ready.

***

As it turns out, it’s not one of his ill-timed hard-ons what outs their relationship to their friends and co-workers or the several times they’re almost late and arrive to the studio together, hurrying in opposite directions to their own rehearsal rooms while bickering with each other loudly.

It’s something so freaking silly Blake would really like to convince himself he does it on purpose.

They’re all waiting for Adam to shoot the first confessionals of the season, which is always fun and something the fans look forward to each time, and Blake finds himself reaching for Adam’s cheek and kissing him full on the lips without even thinking about what he’s doing when the pop rocker finally shows up.

His lover squeaks and acts annoyed, scrunching his nose and wiping his mouth with the long sleeve of his sweater as if nothing extremely out of the ordinary just happened, and the contestants thankfully seem to buy that and go back to chat excitedly.

Carson, Pharrell and Christina are not so easy to persuade.

“Not that it’s any of my business, boys,” the blonde says, sounding accusatory but at least keeping her voice down, “But you could at least _pretend_ you’re faithful to your wives. Why is it that men can never keep it in their pants?”

Blake bristles because she’s right about one thing; it’s not any of her fucking business and she has no right to assume anything about either him or Adam, but the younger man stands between them and puts a hand on his chest to keep him from towering over her.

It doesn’t help at all that Carson looks pretty much the same shade of righteous disapproval mixed with some shock.

“It’s not like that,” Adam explains, or tries to, but Pharrell is the only one who looks like he’s willing to listen.

“Look, guys, the show is going to support you of course, if it comes down to it,” Carson says, “But me? I don’t like cheating all that much, actually not at all,” he looks at Blake pointedly then and adds, “Another one of your bad habits, huh? Should I be warning Adam that you’re going to break his heart when the next best thing comes around?”

“YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH, IT’S NOT HIS FAULT!” Adam screams, simultaneously making everyone around turn to them and stopping the hurt Blake felt at Carson’s words from spreading in his chest and any sort of violent reaction he could’ve had to it, “JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP! HE DIDN’T DO ANYTHING WRONG! HE—I—“

Adam takes a shuddering breath, choking in his next words, and Blake understands with a painful twist that his lover is about five seconds from having a panic attack. Adam’s told him he used to have them when he was younger, and after the stress he’s been through Blake isn’t surprised at all he’s on the verge of one.

He shushes Adam gently, holding him to his chest and hiding him from view at the same time he feels Adam’s knees threatening to buckle. Adam looks up at him from his shoulder, his eyes wide with a frantic kind of fear Blake’s never seen on his face and never wants to see again.

“I—I can’t—“ Adam stutters, clawing at his own chest and so pale his skin is beginning to merge with the white of his tee, and Blake doesn’t need him to finish that sentence to know what he needs to do.

“Breathe with me now,” he asks, firm but warm, “In, out,” he remembers reading somewhere he has to make Adam slow his breathing so he counts to three each time and repeats it, keeping the rhythm regular and even, “You’re okay, that’s it. You’re okay, Adam. It’s gonna be okay.”

Adam hiccups against his neck and his face is a little damp against Blake’s skin, clinging to him by his shirt like he’s trying to fit inside the Country singer’s oversized suit jacket as well to disappear there. He’s still trembling but not nearly as much as five minutes ago and his breathing is under control so Blake turns his head to glare at everyone who’s still there which is thankfully just the coaches and Carson now.

Christina looks worried and apologetic, trying to catch a glimpse of Adam even though Blake keeps shielding him with his body.

Carson knows him better so he looks a little bit scared on top of it.

Blake is only slightly satisfied about that.

“Is he really okay?” Pharrell asks kindly, “I kinda knew about you guys, you haven’t been exactly subtle about it, but I didn’t want to pry and I don’t like judging either. Your life, your choices, you know, that’s all I have to say.”

“Thanks, buddy,” Blake tells him, heartfelt. That’s exactly what he was hoping to get from the three of them and it means the world to him even if it’s just Pharrell saying it, “He’s okay, he’s just—he’s been through a lot lately.”

“Is there something I can do?” Pharrell asks and Blake finds in it him to give him a small smile.

“If you find some of that coconut shit he likes drinking, that’d be nice,” he prattles, just to say something, but Pharrell nods solemnly and goes off like a man on a mission before Blake can say anything to drink without caffeine in it would be okay.

“I’m so sorry, Adam,” Christina offers once the four of them are left alone.

“For your information,” he interrupts her as she’s taking air no doubt to ruin a perfectly good apology with some variation of _but I’m right and you’re wrong_ , “Miranda and Behatay— _Behati_ ,” he corrects himself, because he can actually pronounce Adam’s wife’s name properly after practicing it enough, “They know. They’re cool with it, so you can shove both of your opinion up your asses for all I care.”

“Buddy—“ Carson tries but Blake is already giving them his back again and wiping Adam’s cheekbones with his thumbs.

“Can you walk, darling? I’d like for you to lie down a bit before we come back to shoot this.”

Adam blinks up at him and shakes his head, still on the wrong side of ashen and sweaty. “I need to sit down.”

“We’ll be ready in half an hour,” he tells Carson, to which the host nods readily—not that Blake is giving him a choice.

He doesn’t even want to think about how shitty Adam must be really feeling because the front man doesn’t even complain when Blake picks him up and carries him to his trailer, just snuggles against his chest and lets his head loll to his shoulder as he clings to Blake’s neck.

Pharrell jogs to meet them by the door, extending the bottle of coconut water like it’s a precious offering.

Adam accepts it in his hands like it actually is, smiling sheepishly at him.

Blake invites Pharrell in with them, letting Adam rest with his head in his lap after he takes a few sips from the bottle. He keeps a hand on Adam’s neck, feels his heartbeat under his fingers still way faster than it should be while he and Pharrell make small talk.

Suffice it to say, having Adam like this does absolutely nothing to him this time.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologize for making anne vyalitsyna the bad guy. 
> 
> i don't hate her i just wanted to hurt the baby.
> 
> also there's dub-con on this.

Adam is doing slightly better by the time they go back to filming. He saves a couple of pills in his pocket after going through his things a little frantically, smiling sheepishly at Blake when he notices the older man staring.

“Just in case I have another one,” his lover explains, looking down as if it were his fault his anxiety spiked bad enough for him to lose control of it, as if there was such a thing as controlling that sort of thing in the first place, “I don’t want to mess today’s schedule again.”

It kills Blake that they have no time for him to convince Adam he’s the one that matters, not the show’s stupid agenda, even knowing there’ll be plenty of time for him to do that later when they’re alone.

He kisses Adam’s temple and leads him out with an arm around his waist. Pharrell walks in front of them, sneakily redirecting the attention of anyone who crosses paths with them towards himself and Blake could kiss him right there for helping out to make it easier for Adam with no prompting whatsoever. He doubts that feeling crowded would help Adam any and a hunch deep in his gut tells him this isn’t over just yet, that he needs to keep his eyes open and help his little lover deal with everything that brought this on so it does the least amount of damage possible and Adam can go back to being the carefree and unapologetic and crazy guy Blake’s in love with.

Stupidly, he imagines himself hunting this god-awful feeling down and yanking it out of Adam’s heart after shooting it dead. He knows it’s not something he can kill, not even something he can nick or grab, try as he might, but that doesn’t stop him from wishing it was, from wishing there was something he could _do_.

They spend the rest of the day apart and it takes every ounce of willpower Blake has not to check in on him every five minutes and it only gets a little bit easier after he goes in unannounced and finds Adam sipping on a milkshake with his foot tapping to the beat of a song and his eyes shining with excitement after hearing one of his remaining artists.

“I’m fine, baby, but it’s nice to know you care,” Adam teases with a wink and he sighs, shaking his head and going back to his own rehearsal room in long strides, hearing the band and Adam’s singer chuckling behind him.

***

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you?” Blake offers again, brow furrowing as he watches Adam pulling a baseball cap over his head.

He’s about to leave for an appointment with his therapist and Blake really wishes he could go with him without sticking out like a sore thumb.

“Are you kidding me? You wouldn’t get anywhere ever in this city with your blinks and your southern manners,” Adam mocks him, “This is California, Blake, you drive like you own the streets or you don’t even bother.”

Blake deflates for only a second, blinking in bewilderment at him after the front man pulls a second cap over his head and rearranges his curls beneath it with a smile.

He’s pretty sure he’s wearing the one that says Los Angeles in italics. He doesn’t even need to look in a mirror, Adam’s bright grin is enough of a clue.

The little shit must’ve been waiting for an opportunity to make Blake wear it for ages.

It’s hard not to smile like a loon when he realizes that.

“But you’re welcome to ride shotgun,” he says and Blake takes his hand, squeezing it thankfully because going together will reassure him more than it will Adam but his lover is making the effort to take him anyway.

He doesn’t think he’s capable of letting the little guy out of his sight just yet, not if he’s not a few feet away ready to assist him if something happens again.

He waits outside for about an hour, fiddling with his phone and trying not to think about Adam’s pained gasps and frightened expression even though it’s all he can hear and see—all he can _feel_ —whenever he closes his eyes for too long.

If he keeps them open, Adam is still the only thing in his mind. Miranda didn’t need to tell Blake this, he figured it out all on his own, but he knows it doesn’t speak well of the commitment on his part that he’s told absolutely nobody about his relationship with Adam. Miranda told him he could tell whoever he wanted if he was prepared to deal with the consequences and this is what he’s done with that; nothing.

Going public is not—will never be, if he’s being honest, and he prides himself of being so—an option but he should at the very least tell his friends in the same unrepentant way Adam shared the news with his own. Now, Blake can make of playing dumb practically an art so it’s funnier when people discover he’s not actually the dumb hick from Texas everyone expects him to be, but he’s not dumb. The way Adam had phrased it—‘we go way back, they would’ve noticed anyway’—it was nothing but a silent _you don’t have to_ that Blake has tried to make the most of but just can’t get out of his head.

Adam deserves better, he really does, and accidentally outing them both to everyone at the studio doesn’t really count in Blake’s book.

Thing is, he doesn’t know who he can tell to make it stick, to make it matter, to show Adam just how besotted he is with the talented, dorky, gorgeous front man.

Eyes closed or wide open, truth is he feels guilty as Hell and he’s always been a cheerful person, an optimistic and laid-back kind of guy, but somewhere around he can hear a clock ticking and he doesn’t want to find out what could happen if he lets that countdown end without doing anything to stop it.

Adam comes out of the shrink’s office with a shy, slight smile. He glances around, taking one of Blake’s hands in his after he’s made sure they won’t be spotted. He leans down to press a fleeting, feather-light kiss to Blake’s lips and he chases Adam’s lips just for one moment when the little guy retreats.

It’s not entirely selfish, not even with how much he himself needed the touch to ground him, not when Adam’s smile softens around the edges and reaches his eyes.

***

Carson and Christina apologize to the both of them the next day and Blake knows he should be the better man and stop looking daggers at them because it’s not really their fault that Adam had a breakdown over their nosiness, that was just the results of big and little things piling over one another until Adam couldn’t bottle it up anymore, but he’s still mad at them and he can’t even begin to process how after they’d been the biggest supporters of the whole bromance bullcrap the show encourages they felt they had the right to judge them about it when it became too real a thing to their liking.

“You can say anything you want about me,” Adam tells them, standing in front of Blake’s chair where he’s sulking as if he could shield Blake with his slim body since he has enough will and strength to make up for the difference in their sizes, “But please, leave Blake out of it.”

Blake did things he isn’t proud of when he fell in love with Miranda. He’d do it all over again if he had to, that’s the worst thing; he’d do it again if it meant he’d get the girl of his dreams and a woman who could put up with all of him, both good and bad, without taking any shit from him at the same time. If he’s called a cheater for the rest of his life for it then so be it—tough luck and all that, he doesn’t really give a crap.

He’s told Adam as much but his lover still refuses to let anyone badmouth him, especially if he’s around to stop it.

“You got it bad, huh,” Christina remarks, hugging Adam after he huffs and welcomes her in his arms, “I knew all those goo-goo eyes you made at each other had to mean something.”

He sees Adam ducking his head as Christina whispers who knows what else in his ear, his attention shifting to the squeeze Carson delivers on his shoulder.

“Blake, I’m really sorry, buddy,” he apologizes again, looking at him earnestly for a moment before focusing his attention in the giggling mess that are now Adam and Christina, “I hope you know I didn’t mean that, I was just so worried about Adam. I got eyes, you know, and the way he looks at you—I didn’t want him to get hurt. I can see now you feel the same way about him, you’re just better at pretending you don’t but I should’ve trusted you. I’m sorry.”

Carson’s words don’t exactly sting but it’s a near thing. He’s spent the last couple of years swallowing back _I love you_ ’s and hardening his eyes every time he looked at Adam, summoning exasperation and knocking his heart down whenever it reminded him that sure, he was happy with Miranda, but that didn’t stop the yearning. That didn’t make Adam’s closeness any easier to bear.

“Did you really want me to cheat?” Blake had asked Miranda the night after Adam and Behati left their home because he would’ve done it, if Adam had allowed it, and he’d known all along that if he just kept pushing Adam would’ve let him kiss him and take him and never once blame Blake for what he would’ve made them be.

Once a cheater, always a cheater, wasn’t that how it went?

Miranda had bumped into his side in their bed, snuggling against him until Blake had cradled her head in one of his hands and looked at her with teary eyes, not able to voice everything he wanted to say to her.

“Dummy,” she’d laughed, kissed the crow’s feet around Blake’s eyes, “If I know about it, it’s not cheating, and why would that be a wrong thing if it makes you happy, if it is what you want?”

“I’m not playing, Carson,” Blake drawls at length, missing Miranda and resenting all the time they have to spend apart because she always sees the best in him even in his faults, “I love him.”

Carson smiles at him, patting him on the back before walking to the door of his makeshift office where they’re all cramped. His hand pauses on the doorknob since Adam and Christina don’t seem done with whatever they’re talking about now.

“I’m not telling you that, fuck off!” Adam yells, doubling over and hiding his face behind his sleeves as he tries but fails not to laugh. His eyes are all mirth and Blake’s heart melts a little bit at the sight.

“Oh, come on, you can’t be this much of a prude!” Christina huffs, turning to him with her perfectly plucked eyebrows raised, “How many times a week, Blake? Three if your wives aren’t around?”

Blake snorts, rescuing Adam from her metaphorical claws with an arm around the small of his back, fingers curling on his hip. He kisses the lead man’s hairline just above the faint scar still healing after they’ve removed his stitches, and looks down at Christina in both warning and smugness.

“Every night,” Blake replies and it might be stretching the truth but it’s a lot closer to it than the mild and common three times a week their fellow coach suggested. Besides, pulling her leg is the least he can do after the shit she made Adam go through.

Adam rubs his face on his shoulder, his body trembling with laughter against Blake’s at his cheek. Their friends gape at them and Blake feels confident there won’t be more nosiness to worry about.

***

Adam breathes out a sigh, spreading his legs sleepily as Blake gropes his butt. They’re both pretty much dead weight since it’s the week of the finale and they’ve spent the last few days working almost non-stop for their artists to have the best chance possible to take home the prize.

Adam turns his head to the side, his eyelashes contrasting prettily against the pillow, and looks at him for only a moment before kneeling on the mattress and using his hands to hold his cheeks open for Blake to ogle that pink little hole that he’s been buried in more times than he can count.

Exhaustion doesn’t mean Blake isn’t going to seize the first private and conscious moment he’s had with Adam this week. Being together is worth so much more than the hour of sleep they’re going to sacrifice for this that he doesn’t even hesitate to move down between Adam’s legs, lapping at his lover’s sack lustfully as he strokes himself to hardness with the hand he’s not using to prop himself up the bed.

Adam is uncharacteristically quiet and still as Blake rims him shallowly, tasting the salt in Adam’s sweat and inhaling his musk as his index finger collects the pre-come slowly beginning to ooze from his own member. Damn, but having the younger man like this will never get old and gets him so hard it shouldn’t be possible at his age.

Blake nips at the inside of Adam’s buttocks lightly, craving to get a rise out of his lover more than he can explain. Adam’s breath hitches and his body jolts a little bit, but other than that he doesn’t react much.

It doesn’t sit well with Blake and he frowns, straightening and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

He’s about to ask if Adam really wants to keep going when the younger man looks at him from over his shoulder, eyes dark and hips canting up as his own fingers stretch the rim of his entrance, digging into the smooth and firm skin there confidently.

Blake swears to God his mouth waters at the sight, so lewd and hot he can hardly breathe, his blood rushing south so fast he gets dizzy with the need coursing through him like liquid electricity, urging him to take what’s his.

Jesus, but Adam never stops surprising him.

“Are you gonna put it in me or not, cowboy?” he asks, voice a husky whisper, and it sounds so much like a challenge Blake groans with it and scrambles for the lube on the nightstand.

He’s pushing into his willing lover in no time, biting his lip around a loud moan as Adam’s inner walls squeeze him just right, hot and slick and absolutely perfect for him to lose himself fucking into.

Adam barely makes a sound, not even when Blake’s hand pumps his length, and the shiver that goes through him when Blake’s teeth dig slightly into his shoulder as he slides into him with abandon is weak and short-lived, the pop singer’s lean body going back to take Blake’s thrusts as Adam breathes heavily under him, holding himself up on his hands and knees.

It takes Blake a long moment to soften after spilling inside his lover and he frowns faintly, kissing Adam’s upper back and neck groggily as he wipes them both with his shirt.

Adam doesn’t even complain when he pulls out, not even with a tiny gasp.

It’s kind of unnerving.

“Good?” he murmurs, nuzzling Adam’s cheek from behind.

“Uh-huh,” Adam replies softly, heaving a long sigh as soon as Blake finds a comfortable position to cuddle, “Night.”

Blake burrows his face into Adam’s short strands of hair for a moment, taking a deep breath to shake the weird feeling in him that’s trying to push sleep away from him, “G’night, darling.”

***

Pharrell’s artist wins again and they party hard afterward, both of them stumbling drunk out of their asses into Blake’s rental because it was the one closer and they’ve spent the last couple of hours scarcely stopping from touching the other.

Blake’s been losing a bit of weight during this whole thing without even trying so he’s back to dressing up in shirts and vests like he used to. He hasn’t felt the same need to nurse a drink at least once a day, Adam’s lips taking that place more often than not since they got together, and tonight was the first night in at least a month that he’s drank something stronger than beer.

He’s missed the buzz, he won’t deny it, but no more than he’s missed having time to be with Adam knowing they don’t have anywhere to be later.

“Oh my God, I hate you so much,” Adam grouses, unzipping Blake as he ruts against his thigh like an eager teen. Apparently he’s a horny little drunk and the blush on his cheeks makes him look about as young as he’s acting, “Don’t wear vests without fucking warning me first, asshole, I’ve been hot all night for you!”

Blake smirks, relishing the hungry look and the frantic way Adam is leading him inside for a bit before stopping him and pinning him against the wall of the hallway to kiss every complain and every moan right out of his mouth.

Adam doesn’t even let him put three fingers in him, so needy and wanton that Blake ends up fucking him on the floor of the living room, still dressed from the waist up while Adam thrashes sweaty and hot and completely bare beneath him, arching and pressing against him to fuck himself onto Blake’s cock as he all but howls every time Blake as much as brushes his prostate.

“Fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me,” he babbles, high-pitched and feverish, even as Blake does his very best to shut him right up, pounding his pert little ass with all the coordination he can muster, which is a lot coupled with Adam’s quick eager pushes.

They make it work, they always do, and he ends up fucking Adam as he kneels in front of the sofa, bent over it with his elbows digging into the cushions as Blake’s balls bounce against him and the loud noises they’re making pretty much swallow the lewd sound of his dick going in and out of him, fast and sharp.

“Fucking look at you,” he growls, heat coiling so intensely in his groin he can’t even see a damn thing, can only move and push Adam higher up the couch, his hands leaving imprints on Adam’s bony hips, “Take it deeper, honey, c’mon, I know you can.”

Adam cries out, loud and shameless, and arches his back as he lifts a leg onto the cushions and spreads even more for him.

Blake can’t even remember why he felt there was something off with them. They’ve never been better.

***

Behati is back and Blake doesn’t really feel like separating Adam from her, so he decides to stick around for a couple more weeks in L.A. before he has to leave for his tour.

He spends the first weekend after the season finale with Miranda and then goes back to the city, refreshed after taking a short break from the mayhem of it and glad his wife will be able to go to most of his concerts.

He extends an invitation to Adam too, to any town he feels like going, but he doesn’t expect Adam to agree. He’s always known Adam likes his voice but not exactly the genre Blake is committed to as varied as his music taste is, and he’s okay with that.

“If you put on a baseball cap and don’t take it off during the whole thing, I just might,” Adam surprises him, booping Blake with a grin when the Country singer gawks at him, “You look so handsome with one, I wouldn’t miss it.”

Blake snorts. Hats have never been his strong suit, not even cowboy hats that should fit him like a globe, but if Adam likes it then he’s getting it.

“You let me know when you’re around and I’ll do it,” he drawls, smooching Adam’s cheek and holding him tight just at the thought of having to be away from him.

Adam’s smile dims a little as if he were reading his thoughts. He tilts his chin up at the same time Blake leans down for a kiss, sweet and loving and unhurried like they don’t share often enough, and burrows into his chest instead of complaining when Blake doesn’t let him go.

“You’ll sing a song for me?” Adam asks.

Blake takes a deep, deep breath before kissing him again.

“I just might,” he teases, even though the answer is a loud, sure yes.

And he won’t be calling Adam a douche again, a small simple detail that he knows will mean the world to his lover.

***

He remembers right away why he’d thought something was wrong the next time they’re together.

Adam invites him to stay the night after they spend most of the afternoon hanging out with his bandmates and Behati’s gorgeous friends. Adam’s wife sits on his lap during most of it, taking pictures of them with a big grin on her face. She goes out with her girlfriends when it gets dark, leaving them alone after kissing Adam one last time.

They watch a movie first, Adam snuggling against his side and entwining his legs with Blake’s while his dogs cuddle with them on the bed. Charlie likes Blake the best and rubs her muzzle against his forearm whenever long minutes pass without him petting her and Adam smiles at them both in delight, chuckling when Blake makes faces at the screen because it’s a Tarantino movie and there are more things that he doesn’t get than he cares to count.

The dogs are out of the room the minute their kisses turn randy and Blake chuckles as he holds himself over Adam’s smaller frame and watches him fondly, planning on worshipping him until neither of them can move.

He brushes Adam’s neck with his lips, kissing the skin up to his jaw seductively. Adam breathes out quietly, weaving his arms around Blake’s neck and opening his legs to accommodate him, but Blake still misses the telltale shudder his touch ignites in Adam on a good day.

Something’s screwed, not entirely right here.

“Not in the mood?” he asks, unsure. He frowns, waiting for Adam to answer as he searches his lover’s face for any sign of discomfort or moodiness but only finding him calm and a little distracted maybe, if he looks hard enough, “’is alright,” he points out because it really is, “Just let me pick the next movie and I’ll behave, I promise.”

Adam shakes his head slightly, arms still secured around him meekly, “I’m always in the mood for you,” and he sounds genuine enough for Blake to smile and dive into another deep kiss, enough for him to prep his lover slowly and make love to him just as slowly in the eerie quiet of the bedroom aside from the sounds of their skin sliding against one another and Blake’s guttural grunts.

The only thing that Adam does eagerly is burrowing into his chest as their sweat dries and they catch their breath.

Blake holds him close and kisses the top of his head, worriedly staring at the ceiling for a long time because having sex with Adam wasn’t half as satisfying as it usually is and he knows in his marrow something is going on but he can’t place what it is and it’s driving him insane.

He’s never been a patient man and he’s not going to try to be one now, not when he knows he could be hurting Adam without meaning to because this is new and delicate and he could be breaking it already. It could be too damn late by the time he hears the loud crash that announces that he did. He won’t wait for it.

He’s gonna need help and he knows just where to find it.

***

Behati bites her lip and looks down the instant Blake is done explaining what’s been going on, hoping the super model won’t rip him a new one because he’s trying, he really is, but figuring Adam out when he’s acting like everything is fine even though everything _isn’t_ —that’s not something he can do without staggering a little bit, without screwing up before making it all better.

“He does that to me too, has sex with me when he doesn’t feel like it,” Behati explains with a sad smile, “It’s like he thinks that since we’re together, he doesn’t get to say no anymore or risks losing me. We talked about it one time but—“ she sighs, folding her legs beneath her, “He got so scared, asked me not to leave him, that I just didn’t ask again.”

Blake can almost see them, Adam nuzzling against her like he always does, clinging to her for dear life, and pleading with her in a way only people deeply in love can.

“I’m going to make some tea,” she says, which Blake suspects is code for ‘this is going to be one long, hard conversation’, “Do you want anything?”

Blake sighs, his heart beating faster in anticipation of whatever this is gonna be. “Coffee, thanks.”

“Irish?” she offers, smiling slightly, “I’m sure we have whiskey somewhere.”

It sounds like he’s gonna need the extra boost booze can give so he nods, quips, “You’re a true angel but you can hold the cream.”

She laughs at the pun and retreats to the kitchen for a few minutes.

Adam is out with his band. Blake tries not to fidget too much, stretching and crossing his legs repeatedly as he waits for Behati to come back and for Adam not to be back just yet.

***

“Do you remember Anne?” Behati asks him.

She’s sitting on the sofa next to him and even the way she sits, occupying as little space as possible, reminds him of Adam.

“Of course I do,” he answers, downing almost half the coffee and scowling, not exactly because of the burn in his throat, “I saw them together a lot, she even went to my ranch with Adam.”

Adam’s wife leaves her cup of tea on the coffee table, her hands steady but her nerves showing when she puts her hair behind her ears a couple times too many.

“He’s never said anything bad about her, not to me, not to the guys either,” Behati confides, looking at him in the eye with the most serious expression Blake’s ever seen on her pretty and usually cheerful face, “But she did a number on him, I know so. I don’t need him to tell me to know that and with the way she broke things up between them, would it really be that surprising?”

Blake blinks, pausing as he tries to recall the times he hung out with Adam and Anne. They were an attractive couple, that’s for damn sure, but they never seemed as happy as Adam and Behati do when they touch each other and Anne never looked at Adam the way Behati does, with that sweet smitten gaze she saves only for Adam and that made Blake like her instantly the first time they met.

It’d hurt knowing she was the right person for Adam, he’s not gonna lie about that, but it’d been a good kind of hurt, knowing Adam would have exactly the girl he deserved by his side.

With or without him—and before Miranda and Behati gave them a choice, it was always supposed to be without him—Blake had only wanted Adam to be happy.

“Adam told me that was his fault,” he says, “That Anne had been waiting for him to propose and he didn’t want to so she dumped his ass,” in probably the most hurtful way she could come up with. _Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned_ , Blake had thought at the time and just tried to be there as the friend Adam needed, “Broke his heart but he had it coming. His words, not mine.”

“Yeah, I know that,” she admits and Blake does too, knows Adam never wanted to get married until he met Behati, “I’m not happy about how it went down, but I’m glad he could at least say no to that. He was so in love with her, it was probably the only thing he denied her.”

“Are you—are you sure it was her?” Blake asks because he has to and a part of him, a big part of him, doesn’t want to believe he was so freaking blind and let Adam get hurt right in front of him, “They looked so normal, I can’t believe—“

“Who else could’ve been, Blake? She was the only one who was with him long enough to do it,” Behati cuts him off, confident but not unkind, “Even James and Jesse told me they realized how toxic their relationship was after the break-up, how quiet Adam would get when Anne was around.”

Goddamn it all, but Blake remembers that too; how Adam would lower his head as she sat on his lap and do most of the talking for both of them when they were together.

“That _bitch_ ,” Blake bites out, anger boiling hot in his veins and forcing him to stand up to pace around the room and all but snarl at someone who isn’t even there, his twang so thick he’s not sure Behati can make out half of what he’s saying, “I was nice to her! I let her stay at _my_ house, opened the door of my _home_ to her, and she goddamn brainwashed Adam into thinking his opinion don’t matter in a relationship? I never thought I’d want to hit a woman but you just put her in front of me and I’ll show her, I’ll show her exactly what I think.”

His rant lasts for long minutes but Behati doesn’t stop him, just looks at him and lets him work himself up until the resentment is drained out of him, swallowed by crushing guilt like the first drops of rain by the earth on a summer day.

He sags on the couch, bowing as he rubs his mouth with a hand as if he could get rid of the huge weight on his shoulders just like that.

Adam’s wife smiles softly at him, her hand squeezing his just as soft for a brief moment.

“Don’t feel so bad about not noticing. No one did,” she tells him and it’s probably unfair to think how easy it must be for her to say that since she didn’t even know Adam back then but Blake did and he _should have known_ , “And we are with him now, not her, so he won’t go through that again. It’ll be okay, you just have to pay attention to know when he’s saying yes and means it and when he’s just saying it because he thinks he has to.”

Blake nods and drinks the rest of the coffee, savoring the strong aftertaste of alcohol on his tongue more than he probably should, because what else is there for him to do? Cussing some more will get him nowhere.

Behati turns on the TV and chooses some sitcom on Comedy central, sipping her tea quietly.

He wants to change the subject so he can pretend he wasn’t a crappy friend for years, so he can forget Adam needed him to do _something_ and he just didn’t, but he really can’t let this go, not so soon.

“She was so bossy with him, even a little mean sometimes,” he says, almost having to kick the words out of his throat, “And I just laughed and teased him about being whipped when he didn’t stand up for himself. I should’ve known.”

“You’d just met him, Blake,” Behati reminds him, “You couldn’t have known.”

“But I cared about him,” he whispers, his voice cracking, “I always have. I should’ve known, should’ve helped.”

Behati looks at him differently after that, her eyes warm with something that Blake realizes dazedly must be trust.

She pats his arm when he’s standing up with his phone pressed tight against his ear as he waits for Miranda to pick up on the other end.

Hearing his wife cursing loud and long enough to make the most foul-mouthed sailor proud has always had a soothing effect on him. It’s amazing how fast she calms him down without even being there.

“ _The dogs never liked her much, do you remember?_ ” Miranda points out and that makes Blake laugh, “ _We should’ve let them bite her._ ”

“Guess we should’ve,” Blake agrees, “Too bad it’s too damn late now.”

“ _She’ll get what’s coming to her,_ ” she promises, “ _Everyone does, honey._ ”

Behati has ice cream and two spoons when he comes back in from the patio.

Blake’s comfort food usually drips with grease instead of sugar but he chomps most of it anyway.

When Adam comes in and finds them still in the living room together, he looks at them suspiciously after gaping for a long moment and only seems satisfied once he claims the space between them, territorial like a spoiled little kitten that wants everyone’s attention and hands on him and no one else.

“You weren’t, like, talking trash about me, right?” he asks, tone light but his eyes a little too bright and worried for Blake to believe he’s actually kidding, “I’ve been good!”

He smooches Adam’s cheek wetly in that way that makes his face screw up because Blake is a little too gross sometimes. He calms him down telling Adam they’ve been waiting for him and he seems to buy it, delighted to hear they’ve both missed him, and he practically melts into a puddle of happiness when Blake holds him against his chest and Behati lies down with her head on his lap.

Adam makes a pleased little noise, almost like a sigh but louder, and tilts his head to kiss Blake’s jawline. His hands are on Behati and not on him but Blake doesn’t mind, content to nuzzle his nape and enjoy the closeness.

It should be weird, Blake thinks after a while, but the only weird thing about it all is how very natural it feels to have Adam between them.

***

It’s been such a nice week with both Behati and Blake around that Adam can hardly believe it. He pinches himself a couple of times and they don’t go away though, so he shuts the nagging voice in his head that reminds him this won’t last forever—and of course it won’t, nothing lasts forever and he might be stupid but he’s not stupid enough to believe that—right the fuck up and enjoys it while he has it.

Blake’s been getting this look in his eyes, his baby blues going all misty with something that Adam can’t pinpoint. At first he thinks he misses Miranda but after peeking at them talking on the phone a couple of nights in a row—and feeling like a fucking asshole for snooping but doing it anyway—he realizes it’s not that, not only at least, and he _thinks_ about asking what it is, thinks about it with at least one of his legs bouncing and failing to burn away the anxiety that’s still swirling and throbbing inside of him from time to time, but Blake seems so happy that ruining the nice time they’re having with questions he doesn’t even know how to ask is a no-go for him.

He gets the impression his tall, handsome hick of a lover is trying to fit together the pieces of his life and having a hard time doing so. His music, his wife and Adam make for a wonky picture, that’s for damn sure, and just thinking about it makes Adam sick to his stomach.

He’s messing up, he knows he is. Behati and Blake get along so well, _so well_ ; seeing them laughing and talking to each other so easily warms his heart in ways Adam wishes he could describe even if only to himself, if not to pour that marvelous feeling into a song.

And then there’s him, him and Miranda, and they’re a whole different story. Adam can’t even think about her without feeling uneasy and he has a hundred reasons to be nervous and scared; she might look like a sweet country girl but she’s tough as nails and scary as hell, she’d gut him like an animal if Adam hurt her husband, and the thing is—the thing is Adam is a handful, he knows he is, and even though both Behati and Blake make him feel like he’s worth it, he’s not—he’s not entirely convinced, knows that deep down he’s just not.

He’s a man child and they like it which is great, it’s awesome really, and Blake is every bit as immature and dumb as he is when he wants to but it’s not the same. And Behati, his mellow and beautiful wife, and the fact she’s basically putting up with two kids that will never grow up—it doesn’t seem fair even though it’s exactly, _exactly_ what Adam wants and needs.

He does an extra hour of yoga when he gets too antsy and it helps a little bit. His mind is still a shambles but his body isn’t so wound up so the two balance each other out for now and Adam will take it. He will power through, he always does.

He curls up on the sofa or the floor with his dogs, headphones snug against his ears and hands buried in their fur, and for the first time since he met Blake, he can listen to his records without feeling like his heart is breaking, the deep tone and twang and the candor in Blake’s voice not piercing him like knives anymore.

He smiles softly to himself, closing his eyes and letting the music wash over him with the comfort of knowing a part of Blake—big or little and it really feels like it’s a big one, not that it matters at all—is his now.

It’s up to him to keep it for as long as he can.

***

He almost shrieks when his phone rings and buzzes on top of the piano and a glance at the screen lets him know the one and only Miranda Lambert is calling him.

He leaves the guitar he was strumming aside and picks it up hurriedly, almost dropping it before he can get his suddenly clumsy fingers to work and slide on the screen.

He can’t think of one good thing Miranda could be calling him about and he tries to remember the time Blake’s last text came in—too fucking long ago, it’s all he can come up with.

What if something happened to him? What if he was on an accident, if he’s been at some hospital while Adam’s been chilling like nothing was wrong at all?

“Hello?” he answers, heart flapping wildly like it’s trying to climb out of his throat, “Miranda?”

“ _Heya, Adam,_ ” Miranda’s voice reaches him and she doesn’t sound upset but Adam still has trouble getting in air, worried out of his mind, “ _Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you._ _Blake is okay, he just ran out of battery and wanted me to tell you so you wouldn’t worry. He’ll be at your place in a couple of hours._ ”

Adam rubs his brow with the heel of his hand, holding his breath until he’s sure he won’t make himself sick.

He laughs nervously once he calms down and tries to be a decent human being because this really isn’t about Blake’s wife and how inadequate he feels compared to her, he’s just too paranoid sometimes, and if he makes her feel like he hates her he’s fucking going to hit himself until it hurts like a motherfucker because it’ll be what he deserves.

“Okay, thanks,” he starts, wincing when it sounds about as awkward as he feels, “I mean, shit, sorry, you didn’t—I was just—I’m just stupid. Sorry. How are you, Miranda, what’s up?”

He’s babbling but she doesn’t laugh and they actually have a conversation before she has to go. She’s the sweetest Adam remembers her sounding with him ever and he’s grinning by the time it’s over.

Behati finds him holding his legs to his chest and rocking back and forth on the ottoman and she giggles and reaches to wrap Adam in her arms at the same time he’s untwisting his body to hug her and burrow into her shoulder.

“Someone’s happy,” she notes, smiling wider after Adam pecks her on the lips and perks up when she follows his lips to make it last for a bit longer, “Is Blake coming over?”

Adam nods and lies down on the bed as Behati tries on some outfits to go out with Candice. He wolf-whistles at her every time and she throws pillows at him a couple of times because he’s apparently not being very helpful but it’ not his fault that absolutely everything looks great on her.

“You sure you don’t want to come, babe?” she asks when she’s ready, “I don’t want to leave you alone, I thought Blake would be here by now.”

Adam shakes his head, pulling Bee to the space between his legs as he sits on the edge of the bed and cocks his head up expectantly. She indulges him and leans down for a kiss, sighing against his mouth after he’s successfully made her shiver from head to toe with his hands stroking her back and his lips gliding over hers.

He tries not to feel hurt about Bee’s obvious belief that he needs an actual babysitter because she’s right; he’s been fragile lately and with nothing to keep him occupied it’s easier for things to get ugly very fast.

A part of him doesn’t want her to go either but he won’t be selfish, not ever, not when it comes to her.

“I’ll be fine, Bee,” he promises, “He should be here any minute now, he’ll take care of me.”

“He better,” she states, her smile a little dangerous, and that’s enough to make Adam feel better.

***

Two and a half hours are still considered ‘a couple of hours’, Adam thinks, but he still starts pacing and worrying his lip between his teeth.

Granted, there aren’t many things that can happen to a six foot five man, but L.A. is so big and it’s so easy to get lost in it and Blake couldn’t find his way downtown not even if his life depended on it, never mind how many years he’s been staying here for long periods of time, and Adam can feel panic creeping up on him with every minute that Country son of a bitch is still out there on his own.

He tries to fight it without recurring to his meds, sits cross-legged and forces his muscles to loosen up taking deep breaths, but that tactic can only work for so long. Then his dogs whine softly at him and they’re _not_ feeling something happened to Blake he’s _sure_ they’re just hungry but he jerks to his feet anyway, the worry-panic suddenly bursting inside him and choking him. He feels like someone is holding an anvil over his chest and that he’ll die crushed under it if he stays down.

The pressure doesn’t lessen one bit as he sways around his house, hovering near the front entrance, and it keeps building up until Adam is convinced there’s no room for air inside him anymore and his own messy pants get on his nerves and he swears, cursing himself for being so weak he’s breaking down over fucking _nothing_ because Blake is fine, Adam _knows_ he is, and yet there are tears itching to stream down his cheeks and he can’t even wipe the first few that make it past his tightly shut eyelids because he’s trembling so much coordination is like this superpower he used to have but doesn’t anymore.

His heart is beating so fast and hard it hurts. It feels like he’s dying for real and the magic pill he should have on him to put under his tongue and fix this is all the way up in his room. It’s out of his reach now, he’s too worked up.

He doesn’t even think about it for long, too busy pushing horrid images of Blake on the grimy pavement of some alley to the back of his head as he lies on his side on the cold floor and tries to catch his breath even though all that makes it in are shallow, useless little gasps that aren’t helping with the black spots swirling in the corner of his eyes.

He doesn’t even remember when he fell down.

He doesn’t remember closing his eyes either but everything goes black and he sees Blake’s blurry face when he opens them again, feels his big warm hands on his shoulders distantly and cries out an apology because Blake is talking but Adam can’t understand the words.

He’s way past the point where he could reel this in but Blake still seems to be trying to talk him out of it, taking one of Adam’s sweaty palms and spreading it on his chest to show him how to breathe right.

He has no idea how they make it to his bedroom but he’s on the bed and Blake is rummaging through his things frenziedly and then his fingers are pressing something to Adam’s lips that he almost swallows before muscle memory kicks in and his tongue pushes it to the bottom of his mouth, wincing as the bitter taste floods the back of his throat but stuttering a relieved sigh when his heart slows down almost instantly and his lungs stop burning and start accepting air in them again.

Blake wipes his cheeks with his thumbs, sitting on the mattress so he can successfully turn his lap into a comfy pillow for Adam to rest on and he squints up at him, blinking several times until he can see his lover’s worried features clearly.

He feels so stupid but he’s too exhausted to care. Blake is here with him and he’s fine, just like Adam knew he would be, and that’s all that matters.

He must’ve been mumbling something because Blake doesn’t even ask what the fuck that was about, he just kisses Adam’s clammy forehead and noses his hairline, the warmth of his breath against his skin calming Adam more than it should be humanly possible.

“I told ‘Ran to call you,” Blake whispers, arms loose around his middle but fingers digging into him through his t-shirt, “Didn’t you get my message?”

Adam freezes, staring up at him for a long moment. He wants to apologize again but knows better than to do that. Blake might not even look mad but that doesn’t mean that he isn’t and Adam fucked up, he really did, and he stiffens the flinch that wants to take hold of him when Blake’s hand leaves his neck, his breath hitching as he braces for a slap that he knows he deserves because it’s better if he just takes it, he remembers that much.

He doesn’t get it though, feels Blake’s arms picking him up until they’re chest to chest and Blake’s lips linger on his cheekbone.

“You’re okay, darling,” Blake whispers, and his voice cracks in a way that wakes something inside of Adam and gives him enough strength to put his arms tight around his lover, “I’m here now.”

Blake takes care of everything before tucking him in and spooning him. He peppers Adam’s nape with kisses, doesn’t seem to be angry about what happened at all, and Adam can only press closer to him and hope the medication doesn’t leave his system until he’s fast asleep because he still feels like he’s about to lose it, still feels like there’s a huge weight on his chest that he put there because he’s literally stupid.

Of course Blake was okay, what the fuck is wrong with him?

***

Blake feels vile lying to Adam’s wife when she texts him asking if everything is okay but he needs time to fix this and he’s gotten about as much help from her and Miranda as he can stomach getting. He turns off both of their phones and spends most of the night just watching over Adam, hearing his breath hitch from time to time even in his sleep.

He’s always made jokes to get rid of any lingering darkness around him and his loved ones but he doesn’t think that’ll cut it this time. This goes deeper than what a smile can soothe and shed light on and asking about it has taken them nowhere because Adam, as much as he’s hurting, seems to be almost as clueless about what’s going on as he is.

Finding him passed out because he scared himself shitless is where Blake draws the line.

He will put Adam back together, so help him God, and if that means pushing him over the edge first then that’s what he’s gonna do.

***

“Can I suck you off?” Adam whispers against his lips and Blake shudders when he feels the heat of Adam’s naked skin against his clothed frame under the covers. He must’ve fallen asleep at some point but it’s still dark outside, “I want you so bad, baby.”

Adam is rubbing against him, moving his hips in a swift and fluid motion that ought to be illegal and threatens to drain every bit of reason Blake could have.

He holds on to it by a thread, spreading his legs and groaning with just the sight of Adam grinning like a cat that ate the canary and disappearing under the sheets to take his rapidly hardening length into his mouth like a pro after he hastily takes Blake out of his sweatpants and underwear.

Adam skips right to the dirty sucking and bobbing up and down of his head instead of teasing him and he almost, almost gives in and lets Adam use his tongue and mouth on him until he’s seeing stars and it’s only the idea of Adam doing this to make up for the scare he gave Blake earlier what keeps his mind in the right place and stops him from tumbling right into the gutter with him.

He flings the covers aside, tugging Adam off of him slowly by the hair as his lover looks at him, wide-eyed and looking like he’s come out of a porno with a thick string of saliva connecting his lips to Blake’s dick.

He sits up on the mattress, strips quickly, and beckons Adam to him, kissing him intensely once Adam wraps his limbs around him and gives in to whatever Blake wants to do, just like he always does.

But not this time; this time it’ll be different, Blake will make sure of it.

He takes his lover’s ass cheeks in his hands, kneading and parting the pert globes and pressing Adam’s front right against him so he can rub his erection on Blake’s belly as his thumbs expose his rim and tug at it, making Adam cry out and scramble to take his legs off from around the Country singer’s hips to spread them and give him more room to touch.

He keeps it up for a while, nibbling Adam’s earlobe whenever they run out of air too much to keep kissing, using his teeth to raise goose bumps all over Adam’s spine dragging them on the side of his long and smooth neck. His cock is gliding in the space between Adam’s legs, just shy of his crack, and he knows he’s driving them both crazy but that’s exactly what he wants.

He wants Adam to arch and moan and open up to him so much that he won’t be able to tell what Blake’s doing, how hard he’s trying to break him and how bad he wants his precious lover to lose himself to what they’re sharing so much that the pop singer just lets go of everything, both good and bad.

Adam is kissing him back like he’s starved for it, pushing onto his fingers and rutting against him with graceful but frenzied rolls of his hips, hands struggling for purchase on Blake’s back and arms.

“Be a darling and hand me the lube, would you,” Blake drawls in his ear, his own hips losing it for a bit when Adam’s whole body shivers in response.

The smaller man flails to comply, hiding a burning cheek on Blake’s shoulder as he soaks his whole hand with lube and doesn’t waste any time in pushing a finger inside, keeping Adam still with a palm spread on the small of his back.

“Wha—“ Adam yelps, confused, because it’s the very first time Blake’s used his thumb for this and it’s a little too thick to start stretching him and definitely thick enough for his lover to notice what’s prodding him down there. He still sticks it in to the second knuckle, overlooking the way the younger man’s body tenses, “B-Blake!”

He rubs Adam inside with the pad of his finger, ignoring how his own dick twitches when Adam’s walls squeeze around it and Adam keeps making this absolutely overwhelmed and hot little noises, “You know what to say to make me stop, Adam. I’m not slowing down and you’re taking all of me today unless you use your magic word.”

“Blake,” Adam breathes out, and it sounds like a sob but the front man just clings to him and lets him be.

He doesn’t think Adam really gets what he’s about to do, not just yet, not even when he removes his thumb and goes right back in with two fingers, scissoring them inside in a way that has to sting because it’s too much too soon and he’s not giving Adam any time to adjust.

His intentions seem to finally register in his lover’s brain when he’s about to use his pinky, his thumb pressing behind Adam’s balls to distract him a little bit as he’s about to put a fourth finger in him.

“Stop,” Adam pleads and he’s outright crying now, the little drops wetting the side of Blake’s face and neck when Adam thrashes and curls into him, “I—I can’t, please, _Blake_.”

But it’s not that, Blake knows Adam could take his whole hand if he wanted to but that’s exactly what this is about; for Adam to know there’s nothing wrong with _I can but I won’t_ and for him to trust that Adam will stop him if he ever loses track of what they’re doing and does something Adam doesn’t like.

He doesn’t want this anymore than Adam does but he sets his jaw and keeps going, stomach churning angrily as he ignores Adam’s distressing moans. They’re both mostly soft by now and this isn’t about sex, not really, but if Adam doesn’t realize that he doesn’t know what he’s going to do.

His finger is just this close of breaching him when Adam shrieks the word like it’s been kicked out of him, “VELVET!”

Blake almost sobs in relief, wiping his hand hurriedly on the sheet before gathering his trembling lover in his arms. Adam doesn’t try to break away from him, burrowing into his chest while stuttering apologies that make Blake’s heart shrink in sympathy.

He shushes him as sweetly as he’s able to, peppering Adam’s face with kisses and leaning his forehead against his when Adam calms down enough to stop squirming and gives into his comforting caresses, keeping his legs tightly closed as Blake makes room for him between his thighs.

They hug each other until the sweat on their skin dries and their hearts slow down just enough to let them think. Blake can tell Adam wants to break the silence with something that most certainly won’t be pretty, he just hopes he’s pushed Adam in the right direction of ugly and didn’t just fuck things up between them.

He lies down on his back slowly and keeps tracing patterns on Adam’s sinewy but lean back, daring to hope all will go well when the front man picks the spot right over his heart to rest his head on.

“I’m bad in bed,” Adam says, so very softly Blake thinks he imagined it at first, “I shouldn’t be bad but I am, I’m sorry.”

He kisses the crown of Adam’s head, holds him tighter and breathes a sigh of relief when Adam entwines his legs with his and sags against him, “I don’t know who put that nonsense in your head, Adam, but you’re wonderful. We agreed on your safe word and you used it exactly like you were supposed to, I’m so proud of you.”

Adam’s arms tighten around his middle, and Blake marvels at how his lover doesn’t seem to give much of a crap about Blake crushing them under him. The look on his face when he lifts his head and stares at him like he’s just given him the greatest of gifts makes Blake choke on air a little bit.

“You are?” Adam asks, hopeful and quiet and amazed, “You don’t want to leave me?”

“I want to keep you, Adam,” Blake says, genuine and warm, his thumb brushing the light stubble on Adam’s cheek as his lover blinks at him, “I always have. Making love to you is great but I didn’t fall in love with you because you’re good in bed, you know, so if you don’t wanna do something—if you don’t wanna do nothing at all, that’s fine by me, no matter the time. I’ll take the blue balls over hurting you any day.”

He doesn’t miss the thunderstruck look on Adam’s face or the way his heartbeat goes wild for a moment right against his ribcage that let him know just how much that meant to him.

“You’re one cheesy motherfucker when you want to, did you know that?” Adam teases, clearly aiming for lightness as he lies back down to brush his lips against Blake’s torso, and whether this is it or not Blake is happy with how things went down—he told Adam what he wanted to say, hearing the story behind why Adam needed to hear it wasn’t why he did it.

He chuckles, kisses Adam’s temple, “You don’t know half of it, darling.”

***

It’s Adam the one drawing shapes on his skin when he wakes up with the first rays of sunshine; there are some hitting the back of Adam’s head just right, since neither of them remembered to close the curtains, and his hair looks a nice beautiful shade of coppery brown with the light.

They’re still snuggling, still naked, and Blake prays he doesn’t start to react to it because there’s nothing wrong with having a bit of a boner in the morning but anything else would force him to push Adam away right now. It’s just too soon to have sex after what happened, too soon to get his point across like he needs to.

Adam doesn’t let him though, not even when Blake utterly fails at controlling his body, somehow managing to keep him close tossing a leg on top of his and hooking his ankle on his calf without making it feel sexual.

“At first she seemed to like it,” Adam starts, his tone barely above a whisper, and Blake holds his breath, afraid that if he moves a hair too much his lover will close off, “She loved having me inside her and she felt—she felt so fucking good around me, Blake. We had so much fun.”

He’s talking about Anne, Blake knows it even without getting a name, and he cups Adam’s nape gently to let him know he’s listening, starts carding his fingers through his hair to make this easier for them.

He wishes he could look at Adam’s face but this is more than enough. He’ll take what he can get and this must be hard as hell for Adam, even without eye contact.

His little lover heaves a sigh, fingertips still brushing Blake’s side, “But then she started telling me how bad I was at it even though I made her scream. I tried so hard to please her, to be good enough for her. She said I’d never make any woman happy, that I was lucky she liked doing most of the work so the sex we had was good. Sometimes I was so tired but she’d still want it, she’d wake me up just to climb on top of me and slap me until I fucked her. I couldn’t say no because she’d start packing and yelling she’d never be back if I did and that no one—that no one would ever want me and love me as much as she did, that I’d be alone forever without her.”

“Why didn’t you leave her?” he asks when Adam pauses. He’s not sure there’s anything else his lover wants to say and his hands on Adam are kind but knowing how right he’d been when he suspected Anne had done a lot more than forcing Adam to have sex whenever she pleased makes him want to snap her neck in two.

He feels Adam shrugging on top of him and his fingertips falter just for a second on Blake’s skin, resuming their wandering absently as Adam inhales deeply, “I didn’t—I didn’t even think about it. I thought, fuck, she must really love me to put up with me despite of how fucking much I suck. She must really love me because no one’s stayed this long with me ever. She was the first girlfriend who took me seriously and not everything we did felt good but—but I wanted it to. She was amazing, everyone said so, told me not to let her go and I tried, I really did. Fucking stupid, right?”

He’s not sure whether he whimpers then or if Adam does; he just holds him closer, a little bit higher, and kisses his hairline, hardly believing someone could take advantage of how much Adam wants to be loved when you peel all the layers that make him who he is.

His lover is well-known for his ‘yeah, this is me, love me or leave me’ attitude but no one hears the tacit _but please don’t leave_ that he keeps close to his heart like a dirty secret because being honest and real in their business is freaking exhausting and he will always need someone that lets him know it’s okay to be him, someone that convinces him he can be loved for the same things he’s hated for.

“You can laugh,” Adam says, nuzzling his neck, “it’s kinda funny. I won’t get mad.”

“It’s not funny to me,” Blake counters, “Does anyone else know?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” Adam mumbles, “I told James you’re supposed to always be up for sex if you’re in a relationship and he made a funny face at me and asked about her but I didn’t tell him anything. And Bee—I don’t really like mentioning Anne to her, I’m always scared she’s gonna talk about Jamie in return and I’m gonna lose it or something.”

It all makes sense, considering what Behati told her she and Adam’s friends suspected, but one thing still makes him frown, “Jamie?”

“One of her exes,” Adam explains and call him crazy, but Blake can hear the pout in his voice, “Model, way hotter than me.”

“Impossible,” Blake cuts in, matter-of-fact enough to finally get Adam to look up at him.

Adam is smiling.

Blake feels mighty proud about that.

“Keep that up, Big Country,” his lover suggests, mock seductive, “You might get some today.”

He wiggles his eyebrows and makes a ridiculous and probably disgusting face.

Adam laughs until he squeaks.


	9. Chapter 9

“A dear friend of mine is here in the crowd today,” Blake had confessed, looking so at ease on stage with a drink in one hand and a guitar hanging from his big frame that Adam felt like he was falling for him a little bit more just by watching him, “Y’all help me out to show him what real music is all about.”

“You are so full of yourself, I can’t fucking believe you,” Adam had said to him backstage when the concert was over and they were both more than a bit tipsy.

“You wanna be full of me too, honey, you only need to ask,” Blake had come on to him, making him wince with how fucking bad of a pick-up line that was, but he’d let Blake take him right in his dressing room anyway, happy tears pressing behind his almost closed eyelids as Blake drove into him, pinning him to the mirror as they were both pretty much still dressed with skin only touching in the necessary places, and whispered in his ear how much he’d miss Adam and showing him how much it meant to him that the lead singer supported his music.

Adam’s impromptu visits to a couple of his lover’s venues had gone surprisingly well even though he hasn’t exactly been able to gather the courage—or find the right words—to explain he wasn’t there because they were in a relationship now. He hasn’t told Blake he’d always loved his music and artistry to the point it hurt to listen to it, but he likes thinking maybe Blake got it anyway every time Adam heaved a shuddery sigh whenever the country singer left the stage to step right into Adam’s waiting arms and burrow into his shoulder.

When Blake introduces him to Luke Bryan as his boyfriend after one of his performances, it catches both Luke and he unawares.

“You lucky dog,” Luke says when he’s done gaping, punching Blake’s shoulder so hard Adam has to force himself not to rub it and kiss it better, “Look at you, getting the best of both worlds. I should punch you right in the face just to make things a little bit fair.”

“Aw, don’t be jealous, bud, I love you too,” Blake gushes and Adam immediately scowls, tucking himself under the taller man’s arm when Blake moves to hug Luke.

He doesn’t give a shit about them being in stitches about it, as long as Blake isn’t wrapping his arms and smooching Luke right in front of him.

“He’s all yours, man,” Luke assures him, raising his hands in surrender, “To tell you the truth, I just love laughing at him.”

“Hey!” Blake complains.

Adam sniffs, not entirely convinced, and noses Blake’s neck just because he can and maybe—just maybe—to make a point too.

***

Adam’s been surreptitiously keeping count of the time so he knows their six months anniversary is coming but he’s still taken aback when Behati and he cross the Sheltons’ threshold and he sees Miranda isn’t the only one waiting for them along with Blake.

He kisses Miranda’s cheek after Blake presses a chaste peck to his lips, squirming out of his lover’s arms before he can get inappropriate, and hovers in front of Blake’s mom feeling like he’s seven years old and just broke her favorite jar in tiny little irreparable pieces.

“Um, hi, Mrs. Shelton,” he greets, ducking his head while trying to figure out if he should hug her or not, “How are you?”

She’s not looking very huggable right now, entirely too serious for the friendly gathering this is supposed to be.

“Adam, Behati,” she says, her smile either too saccharine or Adam’s paranoia spiking and getting the best of him. The way she says his wife’s name is almost right on the money and he pushes his negativity to the back of his head, focusing on smiling back and nuzzling Behati’s cheek after she hugs Blake’s mom briefly, “It’s good to see you both.”

He’s stupid, but not enough to miss the fact Blake’s mom must know about them since Blake kissed him right on the mouth the second he came in, but he’s still reeling with it.

He never thought Blake would do something like this; turning what they have into something as serious and official as it can get with one gesture and it’s the best gift he’s gotten in a long time.

He corners Blake in the kitchen while the five of them are cooking a big hearty dinner—Adam swears he could eat the whole thing, famished after touring non-stop for months—and clings to his shoulders as he tries and kisses every bubbly feeling flapping in his heart right into his, one of his feet popping when Blake’s arms hold him tight as he returns the kiss just as feelingly.

His lips tingle for a long while after that and he’s so focused on Blake and Bee, gravitating around them like a tiny planet around two big suns, that he misses the way Dorothy stares at him when she leaves.

***

“You’ll rest more here than with me, babe,” Behati tells him for the umpteenth time because she has work booked in New York and Adam could tag along but would only get to see her at night if he’s lucky, “We’ll make time for us later, we always do.”

She sounds confident and Adam feels every bit as sure as she is but he still makes love to her long and slow on their last night together in the ranch, grinning when she whimpers and pants wildly as they move together and welcomes him eagerly between her legs so that Adam can get her off just one more time.

She laughs breathily between moans, letting Adam eat her out until they’re both so spent they’re trembling.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs, kissing the tattoo on her finger and their wedding band that she sadly can’t use as often as Adam would like, “Promise me you’ll miss me, Bee? Please.”

She cups his face in her hands, her touch soft but grounding and soothing, her naked body warm exactly like a home should be entwined with his, “I always do, silly.”

She pulls him on top of her when he keeps panting, unable to catch his breath, and kisses him so deeply Adam forgets just for a moment that she’s going away in a couple of hours.

“I promise,” she vows, looking up at him so adoringly Adam blushes and presses his heated face against her collarbone, nuzzling her shoulder and the crook of her neck.

***

His relationship with Miranda hasn’t changed much; Adam still tiptoes around her but he at least knows better by now and doesn’t think she’s going to regret sharing Blake with him unless Adam manages to fuck things up royally and sends Blake into a spiral of hurt that he’ll probably try hiding from in the bottom of a bottle which thankfully hasn’t happened—yet, hopefully never will if Adam has any say in the matter.

Last season of The Voice got the best ratings in the history of the show, which is a lot considering the country seemed convinced singing competitions and their popularity on TV were on a slippery slope, and he’s finally just one victory behind Blake so talks about moving on and leaving are so far from his mind he’s glad his fellow coach and lover feels the same.

His panic attacks have ebbed, although he’s neglected to tell both Blake and Behati about his last one and they’re convinced it was over two months ago when in reality it happened a little under a week ago when he was on the plane with the guys and he barely made it into the bathroom to pop the pill inside his mouth and wait the worst of it out before his friends could realize what was going on.

He just doesn’t think it’d do them any good to know absolutely fucking nothing triggered the last one, that he was just curled up trying to get some sleep when he suddenly felt like he was dying, and it wasn’t like it was a bad one. Snuggling between James and Matt afterward had made the last remnants of it go away and he didn’t even pass out so he likes thinking it doesn’t really count and that everything in his life is better than it’s ever been.

He’s huddled in a cocoon of blankets, missing his dogs and Bee and Blake’s body curled around his, when the door of the guestroom he’s occupying opens and Miranda’s blonde hair tickles his face a little as she leans down to look at him.

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” she says, even though Adam’s just been sleeping for a couple of hours after driving Behati to the airport at four in the morning, “You’re helping me with lunch today. Dorothy’s visiting.”

That makes Adam shot up on the bed no problem, haphazardly throwing clothes on to follow Miranda to the kitchen.

She has a steaming mug of coffee waiting for him, just as sugary and creamy as he likes, and since she seems engrossed in cooking already Adam fixes some quick breakfast for them after taking a few sips.

“Where’s Blake?” he asks, suppressing a wince when the question does nothing to help with the heavy silence between them as they eat.

He stuffs his face with more eggs nervously and she giggles, shaking her head at his inanity probably, “Went to pick her up,” she explains, “I thought it’d be a nice chance for us to bond. There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

Adam licks some grease from his lips, swallowing a squeak and repeating like a mantra that it must be a good thing because she looks calm and she’s been nothing but nice to him despite Adam is a fucking child especially when he shouldn’t be and doesn’t know how to interact with her, not even after all this time.

“You know I watch the show, right?” she asks, looking at him patiently even though Adam just nods and wants her to be done saying whatever it is that he did wrong, “I should’ve told you this months ago; I want to make sure you knew Blake never meant all those mean things he said to you. He was hurting and I was busy so I didn’t push him to tell me what was going on, I thought maybe it was just for the sake of the dynamics of the show, but then I saw him looking at you a few months later and I knew.”

Adam looks down, picking at the food still on his plate.

He doesn’t need her to be more specific to know Miranda is talking about season 8; he still remembers every little and big jab Blake threw at him, remembers how some of them stung and lingered in his heart even though he knew better than to believe the pile of shit pouring out of Blake’s mouth.

“He didn’t mean it, I know that.”

“I know you do,” she says, leaning to him to put a hand on his chest, “But do you know it in here?”

His hand is a little shaky but he still takes hers in his and gives her a watery smile. He means to say _thank you_ but what leaves his mouth is a rushed, awed, “Why are you so fucking nice to me?” and he almost smacks his head against the table because what the _fuck_ , where the fuck did his brain _go_?

Why is he so fucking dumb?

“You’re a good man, Adam, and I’m not out to get you,” Miranda replies, kissing his cheek as Adam blinks dazedly at her, “You’ve done so much for Blake, I really appreciate it.”

Adam doesn’t miss the way she avoids referring to Blake as ‘my husband’ and he still doesn’t understand why she’s so good to him, but he hugs her and makes himself useful following her instructions to make lunch. He’s a decent cook but southern cuisine is totally out of his league so he’s happy to just be an extra pair of hands.

She’s wearing flannel pajamas and cowboy boots and he’s snug in the biggest sweater he owns, the sweatpants he picked in the morning a little tight which probably means Bee took his and these are hers.

It’s almost enough to make him feel at home.

“Thanks, you know,” he says later, his chin touching his shoulder as he shrugs like he’s not saying anything important at all, his hands busy mashing potatoes as Miranda checks the meatloaf, “For being so amazing.”

 _I’m so glad Blake has you_ , he wants to say, but she doesn’t seem like she needs to hear it, beaming and pecking his cheek again as she’s the one who hugs him this time.

That’s when Blake comes into the kitchen, of course, and Adam sees his whole face lighting up as he hurries to embrace both of them at the same time and presses happy kisses to their foreheads.

“Look at you making nice!” he chirps, letting Adam go in favor to stick one big finger in the mashed potatoes and get his hand slapped for his trouble, “Ow!”

“It’s not ready yet,” Miranda chides him, still brandishing the wooden spoon in her hand like a weapon and shooing Blake with it but stopping when she sees Blake’s mom, “Dorothy!”

“Miranda, dear, please excuse my boy’s manners,” she says and Adam snickers when Blake splutters, smiling until Dorothy fails to acknowledge him and keeps talking with Miranda and her son and pointedly not even looking in the direction Adam’s in.

“Gosh, I’m so sorry, we weren’t expecting you so soon,” Miranda excuses them, tossing some blonde locks out of her eyes with the back of her hand, “We’re not decent.”

“You’re always beautiful, darling, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dorothy counters, her eyes never straying from Miranda’s form cradled under Blake’s arm.

“See, that’s what I’m always saying,” Blake agrees, cheerful, and Adam gulps and keeps mashing his potatoes as unobtrusively as he can.

 _Stop it, stop_ , he thinks, _you’re an attention whore, it doesn’t mean she hates you. She just likes Miranda better, I mean, why wouldn’t she?_

He’s appeased when Blake swoops back to kiss him briefly and stays close for Adam to snuggle into.

It’s hard to feel left out with Blake burrowing into his shoulder and nape and laughing his Santa laugh but he still manages to every time he glimpses at his mom and catches her staring at him despite she has yet to say a word to him.

When it’s time for dessert he dashes to get it for everyone, the apple pie Miranda cooked the night before smelling like heaven and tasting even better, but it sits heavily in his stomach with every praise she gets for it from Blake’s mom because Adam put the pie _right_ in front of her and she still didn’t look at him.

Adam’s eyes fill with tears but he blinks them away, crossing his legs as everyone else chats and he tries to finish his portion of dessert even though he’s not enjoying it anymore and he kind of wants to leave.

He doesn’t know what the fuck he did to get in Blake’s mom black list except—well, except getting in her son’s pants, that is, and if that’s really the case and she hates him now for turning Blake gay—bi, actually, but that’s kind of the same for most people—or some shit like that he doesn’t know what he’s going to do. If he makes Blake fight with his mom he’s going to feel so bad it scares him to even think about it.

He carries the plates to the sink when they’re done and they keep talking and laughing, wishing his wife was still with them.

He gasps and jerks when Blake wraps his arms around him, appearing behind him like a fucking ninja, and stops loading the dishwasher to look at him.

“You’re really quiet, darling,” Blake comments, nuzzling his nose as Adam closes his eyes and relishes their closeness, “Something on your mind?”

“I don’t think your mom wants me here,” he states, honest, opening his eyes slowly to look at his lover uncertainly, “I think maybe I should leave.”

He regrets saying that the instant it leaves his mouth; Blake’s face falls and his eyes get dark with hurt that he tries to swallow down and hide but that’s still evident for Adam to see.

“You want to leave,” Blake sums up, letting go of him and being completely wrong, but that’s apparently what he got from Adam’s words, “Damn it, Adam, we haven’t seen each other in _months_ and we had this planned for so long! You told me you were okay with ‘Ran being around and now you want to leave after three days of seeing my face, are you serious?”

“That’s not what I said!” Adam yells, covering his mouth in surprise when he realizes he was too loud.

“Then what are you saying?” Blake yells right back, frowning and gesturing around in a way that has Adam shrinking back and plastering his back against the fridge, “Because I sure as hell don’t understand and what you just said is utter _bullcrap_ , you hear!? It’s horseshit!”

Adam grits his teeth to keep himself from sobbing but he’s been holding back tears for what feels like hours now, ignored by everyone including the man he loves, and he has no choice but to wipe them harshly with the back of his hand and push Blake away when he reaches out to comfort him.

“Fuck you,” he mumbles, going back to put the dishes in the machine just to have something to do, “I tell you how I feel, and you call my feelings bullcrap? Really nice, _asshole_.”

“Adam,” Blake breathes out, and it sounds like he’s wincing, but Adam isn’t looking at him to know he is, “That’s not—we’re both putting our feet in our mouths right now, let’s—let’s calm down.”

“You have no idea,” Adam says in a shuddering sigh, turning around slowly, “No fucking idea how much I’ve missed you if you think—if you think I’m making stupid excuses to leave.”

“My mama loves you, darling,” Blake replies, placating, stopping Adam’s frantic movements with gentle fingers that he entwines with his trembling ones, “I’m sure she didn’t mean to make you feel like that, I’ll talk to her.”

Adam hiccups, closing his eyes as Blake’s thumbs wipe his cheeks and going meekly when his lover pulls him into his arms, hiding his face on his neck as he clutches his flannel shirt with his fingers.

His tears die down when he realizes Blake did notice he was quiet and that he wasn’t ignoring him; he was just following his mother’s lead and talking about whatever she wanted since he tours and is away a lot and doesn’t get to see her that often.

Adam is just being a needy little shit.

“I think long distance isn’t our strong suit,” Blake comments when Adam’s breathing has finally evened out and they’re just holding each other quietly.

“You think,” Adam mutters, dry, saving the rest of his caustic remark to himself when Blake kisses his temple and urges him to go get dressed so they can go out for a bit, just the two of them.

He can’t bring himself to look in the dining room to see whatever Miranda and Blake’s mom thought about their fight, he just hurries to put some jeans and a jacket on along with boots and brushes his teeth.

Blake has one of his horses waiting for them outside and Adam doesn’t even complain about not getting his own horse. He doesn’t have much practice at this and the last thing he wants is to die cracking his head on the ground because he was too proud to ride with Blake so he accepts the hand Blake is extending to him and climbs in front of him, holding the reins like Blake’s telling him to as they gallop away at a mild pace.

***

They’re lying down on the grass beneath a weeping willow, Blake’s mare entertaining herself grazing a few feet away from them, unhooked but never straying and moving her ears towards Blake whenever he speaks.

Adam isn’t sure what fixes his bad mood; the long make out session they’re still in the middle of or just having Blake’s attention all to himself for a while, his big blue eyes fixed only on him.

Either way, it’s pretty fucking pathetic but every time he tries to apologize Blake just kisses him harder and makes him wheeze, turning his already skin tight jeans a bit too tight.

“You were right, she’s kinda off today,” Blake murmurs between kisses.

“Ugh, buzzkill, man,” Adam whines, “Sex rule number one, don’t mention your parents or mine ever.”

Blake blinks down at him, smirking when Adam’s words seem to register. “We’re not having sex right now, sweetheart, but I can definitely fix that.”

Their lips are still attached together as Blake unbuttons Adam’s jeans and Adam kicks off his shoes excitedly. The grounds they’re on all belong to Blake and Miranda, plus this isn’t even the first time they’ve had sex outdoors so Adam is so game for it he should probably be embarrassed.

Blake latches on to his nipple when they’re both naked, making Adam squirm as he opens him up with saliva and pre-come but makes it seem easy as his mouth closes around the tip of Adam’s cock and he keeps spitting onto his fingers to push the fluids inside after rubbing Adam’s rim.

Adam holds on to him, spreading his legs willingly even though he knows this is going to hurt after so long going without Blake inside and no lube to ease the way.

But more than the pleasure, he craves the closeness; the feeling of having Blake as close as he’s ever gonna get him, and hearing him grunt in his ear and call out for him will make everything worth it, he doesn’t doubt that for a second.

Blake surprises him pulling out a condom from one of his jacket pockets and he’s about to ask what the hell is up with that when Blake rips it open and rolls it on and he realizes it’s lubed.

“Did you,” Adam gasps, feeling the blunt of Blake’s head already pushing into him not very slowly at all, “Did you _plan_ this, you dirty—“

Judging by Blake’s absolutely filthy groan as he bottoms out and how he either doesn’t listen or decides to make up for the pained moan that he pulls out of Adam with actions rather than words and starts to thrust in expertly, Adam would be willing to bet he did.

It might even be a fantasy of his, Adam thinks nonsensically, because there’s something deliciously calculating in the way Blake just grabs his thighs to guide Adam’s legs on his shoulders and bends him in half to fuck better into him, the pace steady and already brushing all the right places inside of him almost too much for him to take.

“Oh god, Blake—Blake!” Adam cries out, scratching Blake’s middle with blunt nails as the older man grips his hipbones and just keeps going as if his life depended on how well his dick slips right into Adam, “Slow down! Slow down—“

Blake kisses his neck and the underside of his jaw, and if his hips falter it’s only to pick up speed and momentum, making Adam’s toes curl and his eyes roll back in his head, his cock jolting and leaking as he’s fucked within an inch of his life.

His safe word is not even in the back of his mind, the pleasure and pain overwhelming him exactly what he needs right now, so he just holds on as his lover’s knees skid a little on the grass, hips going wilder whenever Adam moans loud and lewd for him.

He comes untouched and unexpectedly, hitching his way through an orgasm that leaves him limp and faint. He’s already missing the warmth of Blake’s seed filling him up when Blake pulls out and strips of the condom, pushing back in carefully as his cock spasms and spills inside of Adam’s clenching passage.

“Jesus, Adam,” his incredible lover pants in awe, as if Adam had anything to do with what just happened, “One more time, before going back?”

Adam laughs as Blake peppers his face with kisses, “If you can get it up, sure, cowboy.”

Blake raises his eyebrows, cocksure quite literally, “That’s a challenge I’m winning, you little fucker, I’m warning you.”

Blake covers him with his big denim jacket as they cuddle and kiss leisurely. Adam is thankful that the country singer lets him rest on his chest, his body more than lithe enough to hold weird pretzel positions for as long as he wants to but the ground still being a bitch on his back.

“Maybe we’re good at the long distance thing after all,” Blake muses.

Adam scoffs half-heartedly, looking at Blake’s merry blue eyes and feeling his heart doing flip-flops for him even though he’s so fucking _dumb_ , “You mean your dick is.”

“Same thing,” Blake teases, worrying Adam’s earlobe between his teeth and making Adam shiver in delight.

His big hands are manhandling Adam’s smaller frame not long afterward, Blake’s dick twitching eagerly between them as if it were searching for Adam’s inviting heat all on its own.

Blake makes Adam literally sit on him and Adam arches, startled and gaping as he’s filled again and there’s nothing but flesh between them this time, his insides slick with Blake’s spent.

He tries locking his knees on the ground to fuck himself on Blake’s cock but his lover caresses his thighs and grips them to stop him, already rocking up and into him, “Don’t want more scratches on you,” he explains, voice hoarse and deep, “Just take it, honey.”

And Adam does, pliant and keen as Blake holds him tight by the hips and thrusts right up into him. It still hurts a little bit, being stretched so suddenly after so long even though he’s been pounded so well already, but he trusts Blake to make it better, to make it worth it, and he does.

Riding back really doesn’t agree with Adam’s backside and after the tenth time he whimpers Blake takes pity on him and sits him on his lap, leading the horse at such a slow stride that Adam’s half convinced they could walk faster—not that he wants to try.

Miranda gives them a knowing look when they walk inside through the back door, laughing and removing some grass sticks Adam still has in his hair when he blushes and tries not to limp so much.

“I’m glad you sorted things out,” she says, gripping Adam’s chin with firm fingers when he tries to look down, “Adam, couples have fights, it’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Adam whispers, looking around before adding, “His mom _hates_ me.”

She gives him a sympathetic look, “She’s just having a hard time wrapping her head around this, she doesn’t hate you.”

Adam nods, uncomfortable, but forgets all about it when Blake comes back for him so they can share a bath together.

If he sees Blake’s mom staring at them through the corner of his eye as Blake holds him close to his side, he convinces himself he’s imagining things and making everything worse than it is.

Dorothy will come around when she sees how happy Blake is with Adam around, right? She has to.

***

A hand shakes his shoulder and he blinks awake slowly, rubbing his eyes in confusion and sniffing the air since Blake told him he’d wake him for dinner.

“Mrs. Shelton!” he yelps, sitting right up probably looking like a fucking mess with his hair sticking everywhere and his cheeks flushed with sleep, “Do you, huh, can I help you?”

“I think we’re due for a conversation, Adam,” she says, crossing her arms when Adam just blinks at her and gawks a little, “What you’re doing is wrong and I’d like you to put an end to it. If you’re truly the great friend I thought you were to my son, you’re going to do the right thing and let him go.”

Adam flinches, feeling like he’s just been slapped in the face. The covers are still over his legs and he wants to pull them up to his chin to hide from this, doesn’t want to hear any more of it ever.

“Mrs. Shel—“

“Can’t you see what you’re doing, keeping him away from her?” Dorothy cuts in, harsh, “He’s happy with Miranda and she’s his wife, his _family_ , not you. He’s having his mid-life crisis early and deciding he wants to experiment, but by the time he realizes what he’s doing it could be too late and I'm not sitting here and letting you ruin my son’s life, do you hear?”

“Mrs. Shelton, that’s not—we’re not—“ he stammers, swallowing hard, “I love him! I—“

“Then don’t be selfish and stop seducing him at every chance you get,” she insists, gripping Adam’s arm so he stands clumsily and she can push him towards the pile of clothes he unpacked chaotically in front of the closet, “Do it for him, not for you. Pack your things and leave and don’t come back.”

Blake’s mother doesn’t leave the guestroom, staying to watch as Adam wobbles and tosses his stuff back inside his suitcase through a haze of tears.

He wants to tell her Blake loves him and that he won’t like what she’s doing but he doesn’t think he can listen to her denial and explanations for it, doesn’t like how much that sounds like a threat either and he’s no one to threaten her place in Blake’s life.

He was supposed to stay here with Blake and Miranda for ten more days but she’s right, at least it sounds like she is, and Adam’s mind is nothing but white noise as he goes through the motions and calls a car to take him to the airport and buys a ticket to New York online without even thinking because Bee is there and he needs her even if it’s just to curl next to her for a few hours at night.

He sneaks outside the house to walk to the road and take the car there. He cries the whole way, pressing his messy face to the long sleeves of Bee’s yellow sweatshirt while hiding under the hood, and keeps crying until the driver pulls up to the curb and charges him.

It’s only when he’s about to board the plane that he texts Blake to tell him he’s sorry.

He doesn’t say about what but he hopes that Blake understands.

He rearranges the sunglasses on the bridge of his nose and makes himself as small as possible on the seat, shaking his head and biting his lip whenever the flight attendants or the woman next to him asks if he’s okay.

He looks through the window, whimpering every now and then, and thinks it’s stupid how much of a slut Blake’s mother made him feel without even calling him that.

***

Behati opens the door to her hotel room giggling, Candice and Alessandra in tow.

She stops dead as her eyes fall on the small bag right in front of the bedroom door.

“Should I call security?” Alessandra whispers.

She shakes her head, lifting one finger to her lips for a moment to listen in case Adam is awake.

“That’s my husband’s,” she clarifies, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow, okay? Sorry.”

“Aw, is he sick?” Candice asks, “I bet just rubbing against you makes him feel better. He’s such a puppy around you.”

Behati smiles and shoos her friends, closing the door behind them gently and tiptoeing to the bedroom after taking off her shoes.

She finds Adam sleeping fitfully, tossing and turning and curling up into himself as he makes small upset noises that make her chest shrink in worry.

She takes her clothes off, picking one of his t-shirts to sleep with and nice comfortable boy shorts. She checks her phone as she cards her fingers through Adam’s hair to soothe him and he leans into her touch even in his sleep, the frown on his brow easing a little bit as he seems to recognize her unconsciously.

She smiles slightly, her fingers trying to wipe the already dried tracks of tears on Adam’s cheeks gently.

She has ten missed calls from Miranda and about the same from Blake.

She steps into the bathroom to talk and Miranda picks up on the first ring.

“He’s here,” Behati tells her in a low voice, “What happened? Did they have a fight?”

“ _Dorothy decided to meddle_ ,” Miranda answers and she can hear the anger in her voice loud enough that it’d chill her to the bone if it was aimed at her, “ _Apparently she thinks I need help keeping her son’s interest._ ”

“Blake’s mother?” the super model repeats, stunned, “But she seemed so cool with us there.”

She hears Miranda sighing through the phone, contrite, “ _She told Adam God knows what, Behati, I’m so sorry. Is he okay?_ “

“He was sleeping when I got here,” she says, biting her lip and wishing she hadn’t stayed out until three in the morning, “I’ll talk to him but he’ll probably just want to go home, ‘Ran. He’d hate himself if he came between Blake and his mom.”

“ _That ship’s sailed, Bee_ ,” Miranda tells her, “ _We both had a big argument with her. When I told her it was me who got them together, she just went up and left._ ”

Behati sighs, padding to the doorframe and peeking to the bedroom to watch Adam sleep as Miranda keeps explaining what happened and how they should’ve done something when Blake’s mother kept giving Adam the cold shoulder.

“I’ll try sending him back.”

***

She wakes up with a sigh, the sheets beside her still warm with Adam’s body heat. She hears him brushing his teeth in the bathroom and probably shaving if the muffled curse that echoes later is anything to go by.

She’s right there to kiss him on the lips when he opens the door, caressing his smooth cheeks with her hands and pressing lightly on the small cut that’s still bleeding on his jaw as his arms hold her by the waist and he leans his forehead against hers.

“Sorry, baby,” he whispers, “I know you told me not to come.”

“I didn’t say that,” she amends, soothing him with her lips on his for a moment, “I said you wouldn’t be able to rest here. It’s six in the morning, Adam, and I’m leaving soon.”

The doorbell rings then and he perks up, smooching her cheek before rushing to get it, “Called for room service!” he explains and she lets him fuss with the food, setting it on the small table as she looks at him fondly and tucks her hair behind her ear.

She takes his hand as they eat quietly, the silence between them not exactly easy since Adam is a tightly ball of nerves just barely holding back from exploding. His foot taps under the table so fast she has to stop it, tangling their legs to keep him still.

“What did she say?” she asks softly, squeezing her husband’s hand tighter when he drops the fork he was eating fruit with, “Baby, you know parents don’t always approve of relationships, don’t ruin a good thing just because she’s not okay with it.”

“But she said I’m keeping Blake away from Miranda,” Adam confesses, peering at her from beneath his lashes with teary eyes, “And she’s right. I was intruding in their time together.”

“Because they _invited_ you,” she reminds him, “And you wanted to get closer to Miranda, remember? Why did you run without telling them anything, babe? What did she say?”

“She said,” Adam stammers, biting his lip and sniffling, “She said Blake is experimenting with me but that she won’t let me ruin his life, that I shouldn’t be selfish and I should let him go if I really love him.”

Behati sighs, understanding now why her husband felt the need to leave without any goodbyes or explanations. She doesn’t know how Blake’s mom did it but she used every insecurity and weakness Adam has against him, manipulating him to end something that makes both he and Blake the happiest they’ve ever been.

She holds Adam tight when he crawls to her to hide his face against her stomach, his breath hitching as he kneels beside her chair and she curls around him, knowing she only has the one chance to push him back to Blake and that she can’t screw it up, not if she wants to see her husband smile again anytime soon.

“So you’re breaking up with him without giving him any choice in the matter,” she sums up, using her legs to keep Adam close when he cringes at her words, “I know you know how much that hurts, Adam. Do you really want to do that to Blake?”

“What choice do I have, Bee?” he rasps, “If I stay, his mom will keep giving him shit about it. He already lost his father, I can’t—I can’t do that to him.”

“Miranda called, sweetie,” Behati says slowly when Adam breaks apart just enough to look up at her, “They already fought with her. What she did was wrong; she might be Blake’s mother but her opinion is just that, an opinion, and if this works for us then it’s the right thing to do no matter what she says.”

This is exactly the reason she’s stopped Adam every time he’s wanted to come clean with his own mom about Blake; mother-in-laws usually think they know better, whether it’s to handle things in a marriage or raise children, and not many people would understand what they have going so the chances of that going well are so slim it’s not even worth the try in her opinion.

She suspects Blake did it to show Adam how serious he is about the two of them and she appreciates the sentiment, knows it worked for the four days it took Blake’s mother to show her true colors, but she wishes he’d found something else to do that instead.

Adam breathes her in, staying quiet as he nuzzles the crook of her neck. She takes him to the shower with her, not looking for anything else than being close to him for a little while longer, and he washes her hair and her skin under the hot spray, giving her wet kisses whenever she turns around to smile at him. She returns the favor, being extra gentle as she washes the healing scratches on Adam’s back and deciding she’ll ask about those later.

She won’t make him go back if he doesn’t want to but she doesn’t need to; Adam packs again as she’s dressing quickly to start her day and they go down to the lobby together.

He looks better, if still subdued, but her colleagues and friends think it’s the flu or something equally simple and whoop at them as they kiss goodbye, Behati’s hands tucked in Adam’s back pockets for a good long minute.

She texts Blake with Adam’s flight information, confident they’ll figure things out.

***

Blake’s heart has been stuck in his throat for too damn long by now, ever since his mama admitted what she’d done to make Adam leave and he had to live through a man’s worst nightmare; watching his wife and his mother yelling at each other, broadening the gap between them with every ruthless word they uttered.

“If I _ever_ lose Blake it won’t be because I let him ‘sleep around’, as you say,” Miranda had spit out, angry as Blake had never seen her, “It’ll be because we weren’t right for each other, simple as that, Adam won’t have a goddamn thing to do with it, I assure you.”

“You think any man wouldn’t make the most of having permission to sleep with any pretty thing he sets his eyes on?” his mom had replied, making him cringe, “That’s not how men think, Miranda, open your eyes before you lose him!”

“That’s not how this works at all,” Miranda tried to explain for the umpteenth time, her patience running thin if the pulse beating on her temples was anything to go by, “You’re not listening to us, Dorothy, why are you being so difficult when Blake decided to trust you with this?”

“Mama, please,” Blake tried piping in, “I love Adam. I’m not having an affair with him; he’s pretty alright, I’ll give you that, but I am _in love_ with him. I told you that, why are you trying to push him away from me? You’re making me miserable!”

“I’m trying to save your marriage before you ruin it again!” she screamed, “You’re screwing your best friend because you’re trying to sabotage yourself, not because you love him!”

“I don’t need your help to keep my marriage, Dorothy,” Miranda had hissed, her voice low but dangerous as she stepped between Blake and his mother, “Blake is my husband, I know how to make him happy better than you ever will. I wanted him to be with Adam! I did everything in my power for them to be together and I don’t regret a thing. If you don’t trust my judgement then you have two options; you keep your mouth shut or you stay away from us.”

His mother had grabbed his purse and beckoned Blake to drive her home without saying another word. She’d always been a proud, stubborn woman—he supposes that’s where he got it from—and she hadn’t changed her mind one bit, not even after listening to Blake the whole ride there and how scared he was of losing Adam for good because of this.

“You can come visit me,” she’d said after kissing his cheek, “But I hope you bring good news when you do and tell me you’ve stopped this charade. Having two partners is a sure way to end up with none, son, listen to your mother. I always want what’s best for you.”

He’s at the airport now, biting his lip as he decides he’ll lie to his mother next time he sees her. He’ll tell her she was right, that breaking up with Adam was the right thing to do. He knows his wife is going to smack him upside the head and call him a wimp but he doesn’t care. There’s no way of knowing how long he has on this Earth with his mom and if he has to lie to her to keep things smooth between them, then so be it.

He’s lost his brother and his father; he won’t lose his mother too. He won’t ever be able to tell his sister about this because she’s wonderful but she’s never understood what a secret means, God bless her heart, but he’ll keep his family in the dark about the true nature of his relationship with Adam what’s left of his life if he needs to.

He spots Adam as soon as he’s through customs and he closes the distance between them in long strides, thankful that there are no paps in Oklahoma to get them on the tabloids and not really giving a crap about people and their phones around them.

He holds Adam’s waist tight, fingers digging into his hoodie trying with all his might to reach his skin to touch him, and burrows into his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck next as Adam drops his luggage and grips his shoulders just as tightly.

His heart stops beating like a wild beast between his lungs just like that, having Adam back in his arms and knowing this is nothing they can’t fix.

“I’m sorry,” his little lover mumbles, even though Blake should be the one apologizing.

“Not your fault, darling,” he reassures him, kissing Adam’s hairline lightly.

He takes his hand and tugs him to the exit after Adam refuses help with his bag and just hangs it on his shoulder.

“I’m not a girl, dickhead.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Blake teases, can’t really help himself.

He wiggles his eyebrows for good measure and Adam hits him on the side with his suitcase, about as dangerous as an angry kitten.

“Asshole,” he hisses.

Blake just laughs.

***

Adam comes into the house sheepishly, hunching his shoulders even more the second Miranda walks to him with the air of someone who means business.

Blake watches them as his wife cups Adam’s face and looks him dead in the eye for a long moment.

He’s pretty sure neither him nor Adam breathe until Miranda smiles sweetly and stops her scrutiny.

“You let me and Blake worry about our relationship, all right?” she says.

“Okay,” Adam agrees, soft, looking at him before ducking his head when Miranda lets him go, “I just, I thought maybe you wanted more time with him and I kept getting in the way.”

“Tell you what. Tonight he’s yours,” Miranda suggests, looking at him through the corner of her eyes, “and tomorrow night he’s mine. We’ll figure the rest out as we go, sounds good?”

Adam relaxes visibly, his eyes tired but smiling, “Sounds great.”

He grins, gathering them both in his arms to kiss their temples.

“There’s enough of his old country boy for the two of you,” he promises.

***

He discovers Adam is actually a damn good shot when he’s not aiming the gun at living things and they’re just fooling around knocking cans off the fence.

That, or Miranda is a way better teacher than he is.

Could be a bit of both, he’s not gonna lie.

“Brace for the kick,” Miranda instructs, putting one foot on top of a rock to demonstrate and giving one hell of a nice view of her smooth tanned legs in shorts to Blake as she takes her shot.

Adam widens his stance, using his whole body to bear the recoil of the shotgun and shooting the can right in the center this time.

“Did you see that?” Adam asks, excited like a little kid, “That was fucking awesome!”

“So humble,” Blake taunts, “Shoot something that’s alive and moving and we’ll talk about awesome, rock star.”

Adam makes a face at that, squirming in his ridiculously tight skinny jeans and still jumping about an inch whenever someone else shoots and he’s not looking, “I’ll leave the cold-blooded unnecessary killing to you, Big Country.”

Miranda laughs before he can argue, sauntering to where Blake is sitting to peck him on the lips and yank his hat too low on his eyes.

“Don’t get butthurt now, darling,” she teases, “He’s kinda right.”

He harrumphs, knowing quite well she’s just getting back at him for missing her concerts for going on a hunt sometimes.

They spend most of the day outdoors but Adam still unfolds his yoga mat and exercises while they make dinner, breathing deeply as he bends his supple limbs into unnatural positions that seem to drain most of the tension still in his frame.

Blake knows just about the way to get rid of the rest of it.

***

“You didn’t drop, did you?” he asks, worried, “Are you sore?”

Adam shakes his head to both questions, shivering in that way that Blake knows he only does when he really wants him.

He whines and goes a little crazy as Blake practically sits him on his chest and lets him fuck his face, sucking him every time Adam pushes into his throat and swallowing every drop when his lover comes, hardly feeling the taste as it drips to the back of his throat and he swallows.

There’s a question in Adam’s eyes when he’s done stretching him and he nods, curious, letting Adam push him to sprawl back on the pillows in a half-sitting position and groaning when he realizes Adam wants to ride him while they’re chest to back.

He grips Adam’s finely defined abs, enjoying how the muscles ripple as he’s buried to the hilt and Adam pants heavily at the sensation, barely waiting before rising and falling on his dick like that’s all he’s ever thought about doing.

His own legs twitch with how good it is, how unbelievably amazing Adam’s inner muscles feel clenching around him after giving way for him to inch inside, and he nuzzles Adam’s cheek with his own as his lover bounces on his cock with eager and surprised moans, like he forgets what he’s doing each time he levels his hips off of Blake and he’s reminded of it with each brush of his cock against his prostate.

He misses kissing him so he latches on to his shoulder instead, licking his arm right over his Los Angeles tattoo only to leave a new mark over his bones when Adam lowers himself back onto his cock more relentlessly every time.

“Right there?” he asks, husky and playful, pressing Adam harder onto him with the hands he has on his flat belly, pumping his lover’s shaft after collecting enough pre-come from it to make things nice and slick, “You want me right there real bad, sweetheart?”

Adam nods frenziedly, tossing his head on Blake’s shoulder when he loses it and sits straighter to start rocking his hips along with Adam’s, the slap of their bodies sliding together almost hypnotizing, “Want to make you feel good too, so bad, baby.”

“Adam,” Blake breathes, touched and amazed as Adam uses his hands to hold on to his thighs and grind harder against him, rubbing his ass so well against Blake’s groin he has to close his eyes and groan loudly as his jaw hangs open, “Christ, Adam, keep going.”

It’s not long until he’s filling Adam up and the best part is Adam comes again right while he’s at it, trembling so hard with oversensitivity Blake has to let go of his cock to grab his middle as he’s emptying himself in him.

“Blake,” the pop singer whimpers when he pulls out, sagging back against him as Blake moves them to rest on the mattress.

The smaller man is trembling a little bit and he’s still tingling all over but it’s been long enough that their sweat has cooled so the subject Adam picks doesn’t really catch him by surprise, “Your mom—“

“I’ll lie to her,” he declares, lips brushing the spot behind Adam’s ear, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it, just play along whenever you see her.”

Adam twists in his arms, just enough to look at him if he tilts his head, “Miranda won’t play along though, will she?”

He shrugs, trying to shut Adam up with a sloppy kiss now that he’s within reach of his lips.

He’d think it worked if it weren’t for the resolute glint in Adam’s eyes that’s still firmly in place when they murmur goodnight to one another after Blake wipes the worst stains—the ones that would be a bitch to wash in the morning—from their skin.

***

“Can we talk for a second? Like, real quick.”

“Sure.”

He’s coming back from taking care of the dogs when he catches Adam’s babbling and he doesn’t need to be told why he sounds so nervous.

He’d be nervous as hell too if he was thinking about trying to get Miranda to pretend nothing happened between her and his mom but for different reasons; when his wife knows she’s right about something, and she usually is, there’s no stopping her no matter the consequences.

He should really stop his adorable but dumb lover from getting his head bitten off.

For some reason, he just lingers by the backdoor, mute and still.

He doesn’t even close the door, his hand still on the knob as he listens.

“Listen, I know it’s not really any of my business,” Adam says, “But Blake told me he’s going to lie to his mom about us and I’m okay with it and I think you should be too.”

“Adam,” Miranda scolds and boy, she already sounds done, “You’re not ‘okay’ with it, man up! You understand why he’s going to do it and you want to support him, it’s not the same.”

“Whatever, that’s not—that’s not important, okay?” Adam presses, surprisingly not discouraged, “I guess you know this already but you’re the most important people in his life and if you don’t even want to talk to each other, that’s—that’s rough, man, for anyone. And Blake’s mom, she had good intentions, so you could—you could maybe let it go, just this once?”

“So your feelings aren’t important,” his wife points out, sharp as ever, “and mine aren’t either, that’s what you’re saying.”

“No! I just,” Adam replies, voice already smaller, “I just think family is more important, you know, so it’d be really nice if you guys got along again.”

“You know, Adam, for a man who claims to love himself as much as you do, you sure have a hard time believing people can actually give a crap about you,” she states, “You’re family too and I don’t like the way she treated you any more than I like the way she stepped on me to take the decision she took to chase you away. Blake can lie to himself if he wants a sham instead of nothing but I won’t do it.”

Blake’s breath catches; he knows more than well that Miranda is right but he doesn’t have it in him to keep being mad at his mom for something he should’ve known better than to think she’d understand, and he’s not sure what the long pause in the living room is about but he’s moving before he can think better of it.

He finds his wife crouching in front of Adam as he’s covering his face with his hands, her hand gripping his knee as she looks at him with concern.

“This is all my fault,” Adam is muttering brokenly.

“It’s really not, Adam, trust me,” Miranda assures him softly, sighing in relief when she spots him getting closer to them.

Blake rushes to scoop Adam up to his lap and kiss his forehead when he peeps at him through his fingers.

He’s been doing so well the last thing Blake wants if for his lover to have a panic attack trying to patch holes in his life that are just too big to get rid of that way.

“Sorry, I can’t fix this,” the lead singer apologizes, his breathing still a little ragged as he burrows into the crook of Blake’s neck.

“C’mon, Adam, this is the natural order of things, that’s all it is,” he drawls, “Mother-in-laws are just not meant to get along with wives.”

He gets double the glare for his trouble, Adam peeking up at him with a bit of disbelief too. But hey, he looks calmer so Blake still counts it as a win.

“That is so sexist, dickweed,” Adam notes, as if Miranda giving him the stink eye wasn’t enough of a clue, “I’d take it back if I were you, and fast.”

“What? It’s true,” he insists, daring, “That’s just not how women work.”

“Keep that up, sweetheart, and you’re sleeping on the couch,” she warns.

Blake huffs, holds Adam closer to his chest, “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are,” Adam approves, squirming out of his grasp deftly to stand beside his wife with his arms crossed, “You need to learn to back off, man.”

Miranda smirks at him, getting to her feet as Blake gapes at his lover.

“Adam, baby, you’re not leaving me alone, are you?” he asks, dismayed, “I’m gonna be so lonely without you!”

“You’re gonna be lonely because you were a dick, jackass,” Adam corrects him, scrunching his nose and ducking the hand Blake tries to grab him with, “Apologize to the lady or you’re not getting any of us tonight.”

“You’re ganging up on me!?” he exclaims, “That’s not fair!”

“Come on, Adam,” Miranda says, taking Adam’s arm to get him even farther from Blake’s reach, “I’ll teach you how to ride today.”

“Yay!” Adam celebrates, tagging along like an overexcited puppy, “I’m getting my own horse today?”

“Yes, you are,” she answers, winking over her shoulder at Blake as they actually do leave him all by his lonesome.

He thinks that maybe he liked it better when Adam was scared shitless of Miranda and they didn’t really talk to each other. It made it so much easier to get away with shit.

“Hey!” he protests, following them with a frown, “Wait a damn minute, you can’t leave without me!”

He has to bite back smiles the rest of the day, watching Adam doing his damnedest to help and please his wife like a kid eager for approval even though she’s already welcomed him to their family.

He’s not entirely successful, he has to admit.


End file.
